


Kindred (English)

by chwefilter



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Automedication, Betrayal, Broken Families, Character Death, Corruption, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Escort Service, Gay Sex, Gun Kink, Home Invasion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Partner Betrayal, Police, Police Brutality, Shark Loan, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Threesome - M/M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 55,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwefilter/pseuds/chwefilter
Summary: Deaths, drugs, lies and seduction. Fooled by easy money, Minghao, a young writer, gets involved in a web of lies and attraction when a ghost of his past comes back to haunt him, together with a lot of other emblematic (and problematic) figures. One month, thirty days, is his deadline to burry his dirty past back to it's grave.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Jeon Wonwoo/Xu Minghao | The8, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Seokmin | DK, Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Xu Ming Hao | The8/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kindred.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409076) by [chwefilter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwefilter/pseuds/chwefilter). 



> 1\. I'm not fluent in english, so this work may contain typos.
> 
> 2\. This work is a translation of one of my most famous works in Spirit, Kindred. You can check it here or there, in portuguese.

Another hard day started on the outskirts of Shenzhen. The roosters of a resident who raised animals for slaughter and sale sang when the sun came up, but there were already people awake and even working before that. Many got up to go to the metropolis, some were opening their local shops and very few had the privilege of continuing to sleep in their beds, mostly babies or very small children because even the elderly and disabled needed to get up early to ensure the food of the day. 

— Wake up now, you bum! — A punch to the wall woke the young man, who jumped into bed. — If you don't work, at least you're going to study! 

Unable and unwilling to answer, the boy just got up from his old mattress and scratched his eyes in an attempt to ward off sleep, stretching one last time. He got up and walked down to the well at the bottom of the house, filling a single bucket that he would have to share for his bath, his brother’s and his mother’s bath also; could only use two cup of water, so it made last enough to get rid of sleep and the smell. He left the yard and then quickly entered the house to get dressed, putting on the battered uniform quickly. His brother obviously wouldn't study so he took his shoes and put them on, feeling the wound on his heel burn out as his brother's foot was much smaller than his. 

— I'm leaving. — He warned, even though he knew he would not be answered. And he appreciated it. 

He took the dirt road and walked in no hurry, since even though the school was 30 minutes away he always arrived too early and sat without doing anything until the beginning of classes. Around he saw men in wagons carrying their goods into town, women carrying buckets full of water on their heads while holding two or three children in their arms, children walking in packs (and these he thought it best not to face directly not to get into trouble), elderly people sitting on simple stools watching the movement... That was the simplicity of his village. 

His cautious steps soon led him to the public school in which he studied and the young man went straight to the library. The librarian was unlocking the premises and smiled when she saw the student approaching, already knowing what he intended. 

— Child, I've told you that no student comes in now. — She spoke in a soothed tone, receiving a pleading look from the boy. 

— Please, _laoshi_ _,_ I'm not going to make a mess in there. I just want to read. — He did a beak. 

The woman sighed and messed up the boy's brown hair before quietly unlocking the library, making the eager student almost jump around out of happiness. The simple seconds that the action took seemed to be hours in the young man's mind, but soon the heavy doors of his favorite place were pushed and he could see all those books waiting for him. 

— Isn't your mother going to the parents' meeting? — The librarian asked, realizing that she was talking to herself. 

She then watched the young man putting together a pile of thick books and walking to one of the tables, sitting down and beginning to read one by one with a sharp passion in his eyes full of hope. He ended up smiling and silently wished that the other children would be like him, or else the country would be lost. 

It was late in the afternoon when classes ended and again the boy walked back, waiting a little for the movement to slow down. It was silly to confess out loud, but he felt a little ashamed of the conditions in which he lived and his friendships did not leave school premises precisely for this. He didn1t even had a cell phone, he could only talk to his friends inside the school or with his neighbors. 

It ended up taking a little more than half an hour on its way and he arrived at the village gate when the sun had already set, having to return in the dark. It wasn't as if he wasn't already known there, but things were going so badly that he shouldn't let his guard down even though he was born and raised there. He remembered a shortcut that used to be well lit and went there, swerved off the main dirt road. 

**[…]**

— What makes you think I'm going to give you all that money? 

The young man looked at the man on his knees at his feet with superiority, in the background loving that feeling of being above someone in every sense of the word. He rolled his eyes as he heard more and more of that man's excuses, already beginning to lose patience with him. 

— If you're looking for me, it's because you don’t have nothing. How do you intend to pay me? — Raised one of his eyebrows. 

— In any way, _xiasheng_ _._

An almost demonic smile was growing very slowly on the rosy lips until the clear, aligned teeth were on display, the blood running through the burning vein like hell when the perfect idea popped up in his distraught head. 

— Any way, is it? 

— Any one. 

Suddenly he pulled the bent man by the hair until he got down on his knees, staring at him. He pulled out of his waist a 356 TSW with silencer and pointed it right at the man's forehead, opening an even wider and happier smile to see fear slowly filling those desperate eyes. 

— Please, young Wen, have mercy! — The elder began to cry, hugging one of his lean legs 

Wen just shook the other as if he were an inconvenient insect and pressed the trigger, watching his eyes roll up one last time before closing forever as his body fell to the muddy floor. The scarlet liquid stained the small path and the boy smiled, guarding his gun back and then walking where he came from, disappearing into the thicket. 

**[…]**

The young man's mother left early for work on Saturday and his brother had not been home since the day before so the boy decided to help with household chores and went to dry clothes hanging on the makeshift clothesline at the back of the house. He took a specific wooden tool for that task and began hitting the clothes with him, an almost rudimentary way to dry them faster. 

— Did you hear that Mr. Guo was found dead? — He raised both eyebrows in surprise and noticed two boys standing in his fence, hiding behind the well not to be noticed. — I think he messed with the wrong people. 

—This Junhui guy? I know who he is. He's very rich, lives in the metropolis. — The other answered. — He works as a loan shark. 

— How do you know? 

— Two boys from the village have already gone to ask him for money. One of them died last month, I don't know if you remember. 

The young man wide his eyes when he heard it and covered his own mouth in surprise, frowning. 

— Man, that's crazy... 

— Yes, it is. Some say that he "attends" on the dirt road next to that abandoned house at the end of the village every day after midnight, but I think after yesterday no one has the courage to go there to check if it's true. 

— Even I wouldn't. 

The boy still tried to get more information about this Junhui but the two boys began to talk about personal matters and soon left, leaving the boy alone and thinking with their buttons. Returning to hit the clothes, he stood there pondering with his curiosity surfaced. 

In a few hours his mother would return home then he quickly picked up the dry clothes and took them inside, carefully folding them and leaving them in their respective places. With nothing to do, he then picked up some pages from his old notebook and a poorly-pointed pencil, writing some more of his romantic stories that he loved writing so much. 

**[...]**

— You and your brother are two useless plagues! 

A glass almost hit the poor boy in the head. His brother had his arms crossed as he walked, wiping the thin trail of blood that came down from his nose after receiving a slap from his mother. Unlike his younger brother, however, the young man could not ignore that kind of thing and always absorbed everything. 

— He's a punk and you're a useless guy who doesn't help at all! — He narrowly did not escape a well-given tug on his arm, running toward his room. He listened to his mother's footsteps, but she seemed to have given up halfway. He fled into the room and threw himself into the bed, hiding under the covers like a scared child. — If I hadn't had any of you, I wouldn't be in this misery! 

Shrunken, the boy cried. He cried like a baby for what seemed like hours, until finally fatigue won that battle and he fell asleep with his face still wet with tears. He awoke in fright and looked around, realizing that it was already at night, and got up to close the window of his room, biting his lower lip to remember earlier and what he heard from those two other boys. 

He found himself picking up a thin sweater and an old flashlight that still worked just before cautiously going out the open window, coming out in the back yard. He jumped the fence of his house carefully and then walked slowly down the dirt road of the village, seeing all the dark houses. It was probably too late, after midnight, or else he would have been picked up by his mother or some neighbor. His suspects confirmed themselves when he saw one of his neighbors coming, and he always arrived at 00:20. He walked quickly not to be identified and followed the path. 

In a matter of 10 minutes walking he came close to the last house of the village and suddenly a shiver ran through his whole body to what he saw the bush growing and growing until everything that was after that dirt road was a secret. He swallowed hard and walked slowly until he realized a kind of trail, a path half occupied by weeds and boulders but definitely a path. 

He thought about coming back, he wanted to come back, but at that moment the need and despair were much higher than any kind of personal limitation. He got inside the bush path and walked slowly, sometimes having his face hit by some bewildered insect flying around the place; his lantern was lit, illuminating the path in front of him. The minutes passed and the young man felt that he would never stop walking, already willing to leave, but when he decided to turn around a noise in the bush alarmed him. 

Alone, in the dark, away from help and unarmed, he was a helpless prey for any kind of predator who wanted to victimize him at that moment. His only reaction was to pick up a median boulder lying on the dirt floor and lift it above his head, pointing the flashlight into the middle of the bush. 

— Whoever's there, you better get out now! — He shouted, trying to sound intimidating. 

The bush moved more and more and the arm raised was already losing more and more firmness until suddenly a young man came out of the bush straightening his pants, climbing the zipper without haste. Upon realizing the presence of the other, he raised an eyebrow and approached slowly, placing his hand at the waist. 

— Were you watching me pee? 

— What?! No! — He lowered his lantern and walked backwards. — I-I, hm... Are you Junhui? 

— How do you know my name? 

Suddenly the young man was practically cornered by Junhui, who watched him with a suspicious and even angry expression. He continued with his hand at his waist and received an arching of eyebrows, smiling. 

— I know you're a loan shark. I came to borrow money. 

Junhui needed a few seconds to process that question but soon fell into laughter as if he had heard the funniest joke of the century. He was watched by the other boy who was confused and stood there laughing for a while longer before drying the tears that flowed from his eyes, putting his hand on his chest. 

— Look, kid, I'm sure you're from here, you wouldn't come far away just to look for me. — He pointed, approaching more and surrounding the boy like a dog. — And if you’re from here, you have nothing to offer me. Everyone in this neighborhood is poor. How are you going to pay me back later, huh? 

— I'll get by. I have nothing to lose. 

— You don't, eh? — Wen asked again, licking his lips as he smiled. 

Suddenly he pulled out his gun from his pocket and pointed it at the young man's forehead, already expecting a cry, yelp or desperate reaction as he always loved to see, but all he earned was a tired look being thrown towards him. Within those eyes he saw sadness, anger, pain, but mainly identified there an almost natural conformity of that being, something he began to carry within him after a long time. 

— Aren't you going to beg for your life? 

— No, I'm not. If you kill me, I won't miss anything. If you kill my family, it's going to be the same as leaving everyone alive. They're nothing. — He laughed without humor, sighing. — I only came for the money, but if you're going to kill me, come on, do it. 

Junhui pondered for a while longer and toyed with his finger on the trigger expecting a slight change of expression, but only saw his exhausted eyes getting even sadder almost as if the boy was waiting to die. He sighed and lowered his gun, crossing his arms. 

— You're lucky, you're the first person I've let go of killing. — He said, keeping the gun around his waist again and taking a cake of notes out of his pocket. — How much do you need? 

— How much can you give me? 

— 12232.58 yuan*, since I did not negotiate with anyone this week. A month to pay. — He spoke, swinging his money notes in front of the face of others. 

Those young eyes, who had never seen such a large number of notes, widened and followed Junhui's hand movements like a dog looking at a chicken drum, making the loan shark laugh at that action. Suddenly the notes were placed in the young man's underwear, who gave a fright jump, and the other passed his arm on his shoulder. 

— Take me home. I want to know where you live. I know you're in no condition to move, if you did, you wouldn't be here. 

— Sure. 

— What's your name? — He asked, but suddenly the boy began to walk. 

The path was quiet and even half uncomfortable in every sense of the word, as Junhui's elbow was pointy and weighed on the boy's shoulder. It didn't take long to get to the place and then the tallest one took his eyes, staring at his client. 

— Isn't here where a man lived? — He asked, scratching his chin. 

The boy didn't answer, he just kept walking. Junhui followed him without understanding but suddenly the boy turned and bent over, making a sign of silence before jumping the back fence. 

— Xu Minghao. — He said all of a sudden. — My name is Xu Minghao. 

Junhui didn't say anything, so the other used it as the cue to jump in and into the room, closing the window. The young man outside just laughed and rolled his eyes, then began to walk out of the village while whisting quietly, with his hands in the pocket of his imported coat. 

In the simple room, the boy was elated. His hands squeezed the money against his chest tightly and he stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, sweating cold even if it wasn't hot. Still silent he then took his school bag and stuffed his underwear, blouses, pants and his few coats along with his storybook and flashlight. He left the money deep down, leaving his backpack hidden under the bed. In the end he only slept for thirty minutes, as he fell asleep when the sun came up and his mother went to wake him up. 

That morning, he did all his daily routine. He took his bath with two glasses, ate an old toast and walked down the dirt road while putting his hands on the uniform coat, straightening his dry hair. Calmly he began whistling very quietly the same melody that the other whistled last night, using one of the money notes to catch a bus. He put his head against the window and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the sunlight warm his cold skin. 

He came down and smelled sea air entering his nostrils, smelling it as a smile was growing on his injured lips with dry skin. He saw a group of people looking like him, holding bags and backpacks, so he sneaked between them. He noticed a sign written in Japanese characters on the boat they were entering and it made him afraid, but when he saw those people boarding and looked back, seeing his mediocre life, he didn't even have to think twice. 


	2. Two.

**Ten years later.**

  


— A press conference in two days? That's -- that's amazing! — His voice was lively and he seemed not to believe it. — Of course I can! Don't worry, I’ll be right there. — He ran to his desk and tore out a sheet from the notebook, scribbling the information he received. — No problem, I have no other appointments or anything... Besides, it's a priority! 

The place was silent for a few seconds and the boy began to laugh, really happy. He spent a few more minutes on the phone, going round and round through his office as he spoke, but suddenly the call was ended and he threw himself into his comfortable chair, putting his hands behind his head and sighing audible as a satisfied smile grew on his young, refreshed face. That was the life of his dreams. 

In ten years many things happen, but it was surreal the way Minghao's life paid off in a decade. He arrived in Japan with a limited amount of money in his pocket, with nowhere to stay and no mastery of the language, but eventually managed to find a pension in which he stayed and worked for months enough to be able to pay for a college after resuming his studies. He eventually graduated in Letters and learned Japanese quickly before that, which facilitated his stay in the country. 

When he finished his college he managed to rent his own apartment, but since before he published some stories on the internet and fanfics on teenagers-public sites. It was only at the age of 23 that he achieved his first notable work, which was published on Amazon. A simple novel for young-adult audiences, but which earned him so much money that in a short time he was already living in a penthouse aparment in Shinjuku, a Tokyo neighborhood. 

A publisher offered to publish his first physical book and then her name burst throughout Japan, creating a legion of fans loyal to her works and even to herself. He learned that his name arrived in other Asian countries in a few months and everything followed until, at the age of 26, he received the proposal of an American director who heard about his books and decided to buy the rights to one of his most famous novels, " _The Weak Side_ ", to make a feature film based on it. 

The recordings began in a year and soon the public announcement had already been made, causing Minghao's name to burst worldwide. In this interval of another year, then, he was giving several interviews and participating in various press conferences, because even with him deserving all the prominence he was gaining it was very unusual to see a writer as young and beautiful as him, considering the fact that few at his age followed the career. He was like an oasis of fame, which the media was enjoying. He knew and did not care, as long as he could pursue his dream profession in peace. 

He was awakened from his daydreams when the door opened, revealing his new secretary. He had a huge smile on his face, as always, and adjusted on the social tie, pushing his prescription glasses with the index finger before sitting in the vacant chair in front of his boss's desk with his phone in his hand, excited as a child who just won his favorite candy. 

— Minghao, you won't believe it! They just called me! — He spoke contentedly, having the attention of the superior himself. — It was a company, they set up a press conference with you in two days! 

— Yes, I know, but thanks for letting me know anyway, Seokmin. 

As Minghao had no need to hire a manager as he wanted independence and knew very well to take care of his own image he decided to hire a secretary, who appeared in the form of Lee Seokmin. Kind and simple, the boy had been hired three months ago and was performing his role very well despite having a natural clumsy way, but this was his charm and he was an excellent professional, always in tune with what Minghao needed. Besides, he was a great colleague, as the two were still not close enough to consider themselves friends. 

— Well, that's not all I came to warn you, sir. — The brownish said, drawing a laugh from others. — You're free for the rest of the day, today you have no commitment, and I'm going to reject anything that comes in at the last minute. 

— You're the best, hyung. — The redhead blinked, patting friendly on the shoulder of the man after approaching. — Well, then, you also have the day off. 

— Then I'll be going now! 

Seokmin said goodbye to his boss and then left his office, leaving the Chinese alone after the door slammed indicating his exit. Minghao sighed and leaned against the office wall, rubbing his face a few times before running his fingers between his long hair. He knew it was time to cut his mullet, but he barely had time to breathe and when he had it he just wanted to be alone or resting. He then decided to leave, already feeling sick of being in that place for so long. 

He left after wearing an overcoat on top of his stripped-down clothes and walked through the quiet streets of his neighborhood, already knowing exactly where he was going. It was almost a point of his, it was there that most of his fans and meddling paparazzi found him, virtually every week it was possible to see the Chinese there, especially when he had more than two days off in the week. 

He pushed the glass door and smiled as he heard the tinkling, approaching the counter and waiting for the attendant to turn to himself. When he did, an evil smile grew on Minghao's lips as the other boy turned his eyes and sighed deeply. 

— Welcome to Cat Cafe Calico Shinjuku, _it's a huge prrrreasure-_ ah, fuck, I'm not going to say that. 

— I am your client! 

— Minghao, you're not my client, you just come here and ask me to say that same catchphrase every single day for a year and seven months ago! 

— And drink your coffee. 

It was funny, but Jihoon worked at a neko café and met Minghao, his best friend, when the boy discovered his caffeine-diagnosed addiction and began attending the place virtually every day for a year and seven months, the exact time of friendship of the two boys. Their personalities were quite distinct but they got along very well and found themselves out of the place constantly to go out together or stay at home marathoning series when neither of them was working, which had been rare lately but in no way interfered in their relationship. 

— Please, a green tea latte. — Minghao asked with a grin, making the blonde roll his eyes once more. It was a recurring habit of Lee when the two were together. 

While the boy was preparing his drink, the writer went to see the cats. He went more to the place for coffee than for the cats but whenever new cats arrived, especially puppies, he proudly would leave the neko coffee sneezing like crazy and full of fur in all colors and shades on his clothes. He left when his coffee got cold, for not even Jihoon's scream made him drop the orange kitten that lay on his lap and fell asleep. 

— Let me guess, are you off today? — Jihoon deduced, receiving a nod. — My day off is tomorrow, what are you going to do at night? 

— Drinking and sleeping, I have a press conference on Saturday. — Minghao grumbled, licking his lips. — Why? 

— Curiosity. I was going to ask you to drink with, but I forgot you're a busy man now. — The elder provoked, receiving a middle finger in response. 

— Don't you have to work? I'm going to have a little talk with your boss. 

— Go fuck yourself, Xu. 

The writer were not completely wrong, because Jihoon was covering the shift of an employee who became ill, so he said goodbye to his best friend and left, decided to walk a little further before returning home. It had snowed a few days ago so there was still a bit of moisture on the sidewalks and plants, which exuded a great smell of rain. With his hands in his pockets Minghao closed his eyes and inhaled deep, smiling. 

Suddenly a bad sensation hit his chest and he looked around, feeling like he was spotted. He was already used to being followed and already knew how to differentiate a stalker from a paparazzi, but at that specific moment he felt as if he was being watched by someone invisible, unable to be found, slippery. Shaking by a shiver, he walked again and decided to go home. 

He left his coat hanging at the door and rubbed his red hair as he walked into the kitchen, filling a glass of water. He took two sips as he walked up to the bedroom and left the glass on the corner table, undressing his blouse and pants before wearing some oversized shirt. He sat on the mattress and pulled out a little box under the bed, opening it and getting one of his meds — Seokmin would kill him if he knew he had gotten those over-the-counter meds and was self-medicating. He swallowed two anxiety pills at once and gave one last sip in his water so they could come down, grunting before lying on the bed and closing his eyes, covering himself. He rolled in bed a few times and laughed humorlessly, putting his hands on his face and grunting in frustration knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep. 

Again. 


	3. Three.

— You need to give us at least five more chapters in two weeks, Minghao. We don't have any more time.

— I know  i don't, but I need more time to rest my mind and deliver good content. — Minghao retorted, patting his fingers on the table. — That's not how creativity works.

— And that's not how real life works. We need five more chapters in two weeks, Minghao. — The publisher's owner repeated, sighing. — We've been adapting your books for a long time and you're our golden goose, but we can't go out in the way of that just when you're on top, boy.

— I... I know. — The writer gave up arguing and just surrendered, shaking his hand over the table. — I'm going to start writing today.

— You're a good boy, Minghao. You have a good heart. 

The man hung up and soon he put the landline on the hook anyway, pulling his hair in frustration and kicking the table hard. He bit his lower lip hard until he felt the taste of blood in his mouth and shook his head in denial, breathing deep and going into the kitchen to fill a glass of water. He drank everything in three sips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slapping himself in the face for "waking up."

Sitting in front of the computer and staying for hours typing his works was a pleasurable task for the redhead since, in addition to his enormous passion, it was his livelihood, but writing forcibly or under pressure was horrible, a bitter feeling that took over his being and left him so depressed that he considered throwing the computer out the window or throwing himself at himself towards a next life in which he could do what he loved without having to deal with so much shit.

The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes turned into hours and when Minghao decided to take a break it was already at night. He looked at the clock and it was still early in his discretion, so he ended up calling Jihoon as he, for sure, was the most suitable company he could look for at that time. Not that the boy was inconsequential, but he always came up with everything with the boy.

— You've changed your mind, I know.

— You know me so well...

Minghao was wearing a black patterned blouse and simple ripped jeans along with a pair of sneakers, because he knew he had no need to get all dressed up just to get shitfaced and dance until everything was over. He sat on the couch in his living using his cell phone while waiting for time to pass until the bell rang, indicating that his best friend had already arrived. He then took his wallet and got up, leaving the apartment and being quickly accompanied by the other.

— Any specific place in mind? — Lee asked, getting a head swing in denial.

— Anywhere with the good shit and good music. 

— I know where we're going today then.

By the smile that the boy opened the writer already imagined that the destination was not a good thing but was so worn out mentally that he just decided to deliver his night in the hands of his best friend. They got into the Chevrolet Onix that the  korean bought with his humble salary amounted for two years and then the older one began to drive, while the other took the chance to sit back and take a quick nap.

The nap was short and when the redhead woke up he realized they were on a street full of red lights, flashing and calling passers-by. The boy's face was the same color as the signs and he wide-eyed, drawing the attention of a laughing Jihoon.

— Why are we in a red light district?! — He asked in disbelief, making his best friend laugh. — It's not funny, Jihoon, if anyone recognizes me here I'm completely fucked up! 

— Relax, no one's going to look for you here. And if you meet someone you know, then there's going to be two of you keeping the same secret. — The blond murmured, parking the car. — We're here!

The façade of the place was simple. The construction was beautiful, all black with decorations in neon red; a line formed outside to get in and he could hear the music outside playing at the highest of the volumes. While the older one dragged the two to the line, the redhead finally understood the whole situation.

— Did you bring me to a whorehouse?! — Minghao yelled, causing three or four people nearby to laugh. — Jihoon, have you gone crazy for good?! Did you put cat weed in your stinky cigarettes?!

— Stop the drama, Minghao. How long has it been since you've fucked? § Jihoon smiled like the Cheshire cat as he received silence in response. — Drink, dance and getting your dick wet after a shitty day. Are you going to tell me that's not what you want? 

Again the boy received the silence as an answer and turned head-on, leaving his friend still afraid quiet. The redhead looked at the brothel's red façade and read " _ Scandale _ " in cursive letter, biting his lower lip while staring at his own shoes, but was suddenly pulled by his arm and when he saw it was already inside the place.

The smell was something between body sweat and alcohol along with several different perfumes, which made the writer slightly nauseous. The lights flashed in red and purple, a mind-blowing combination, and people all danced together. On small stages, boys of various appearances and ethnicities danced, undressing or even kissing, which made the  chinese strangely excited and frightened. He turned to talk to Jihoon but he was already gone, causing the younger one to roll his eyes and walk to the bar. 

He ended up ordering a Bloody Mary and drank the drink slowly, making grimaces sometimes until he finally got used to the exotic taste, licking his lips. He felt noticed once again and was already thinking of having his night ruined by a paparazzi, but all he found was a pair of light brown eyes staring at him. He was a handsome boy with black hair and rosy lips. He wore nothing but a black harness and pants of the same color, approaching slowly like a tiger coming to hunt his prey. 

Neither exchanged a word until the brunette came close enough to sit comfortably on the lap of the writer, who promptly placed his arm around his waist. The two exchanged warm looks and then the boy put his hand on the writer's face, smoothing him slowly.

— What should I call you?

—Minghao. — He murmured, mesmerized by the eyes of the other. — What about you?

— Tonight, call me Vernon.

** […] **

Vernon threw himself aside on the bed and began to regulate his breathing as his lungs burned for air, his chest rising and falling so rapidly that he thought he was going to faint at that moment. He  wipped his forehead with the back of his hand and looked at the exhausted but relaxed boy by his side, with the condom still on his cock and his hands behind his head. Sneakily approached and laid his head on the  chinese’s chest, but it was only to reach his pants that he left on the floor on the other side of the bed and pull out a few yen, enough for the service.

— Would you like a cigarette? — The prostitute asked, receiving a nod in response. He took a cigarette out of the drawer and lit it, passing it on to the client.

Minghao took a few puffs and let the smoke rise while closing his eyes, just not getting asleep because he knew he was in a whorehouse. Suddenly he remembered that he came accompanied and cursed softly in Chinese, returning the cigarette to Vernon and sitting on the bed while picking up his clothes. 

— Are you going now? — The prostitute asked again, receiving another nod. He just curled up in the covers and kept smoking. — If you want to come back to be taken care of again... 

— Who knows. My job won't allow it. — He muttered, a little grumpy at suddenly remembering why he was in a whorehouse almost on the eve of a press conference.

He put on his shoes and got up after popping his back, turning around only to say goodbye to the boy he spent the most relaxing night of the month with and going back his way. He went through other boys who stared at him, but knew he was already leaving after completing his service with some of them so he can pass quietly. I was exhausted just thinking about having to look for Jihoon in the middle of that mess, but he didn't even have to.

There was the blonde, who works as a cat aunt and smiles at customers as if he liked being there, clinging to three prostitutes, one on his lap, another holding his lap and a third bent in the middle of that quadruple kiss. Not wanting to get in the way of his friend, he just took the trouble to send a message that he would probably see when he was resting post-fuck warning that he had left alone and left the whorehouse in a hurry, for fear of anyone seeing him.

He rubbed his arms with his hands in an attempt to warm up when he arrived outside and was greeted by a cold breeze but it wasn't enough, so he started walking as fast as he could to get a cab away from the red district. What stopped him, though, was someone stopping him.

— Minghao, what are you doing here?

The unexpected presence of the black-haired boy frightened the chinese, but upon recognizing him he just put his hand on his chest and sighed relieved, ducking down to regain the air he didn't even realize he had held when he thought about the possibility of being recognized by a fan or other writer.

— Shit, you almost made me piss in my pants now. — He murmured softly, drawing a scandalous laugh from the other. — I think you saw me leave the whorehouse and I don't even have to tell you what I did in there.

— I hadn't seen it, but it was worth the information even if unnecessary. Anyway, you want to buy something?

— No, thanks. I'm on my way home, I'm fine. — Minghao dispensed the cocaine pins, bags of marijuana and other things the dealer had in his jacket. — Bye.

— Take care, uh?

The brunette watched Minghao go away and laughed softly, denying with his head to imagine that he was not alone. Suddenly he felt observed and then turned his back, seeing the blond boy still at the door of the whorehouse with his arms crossed and a serious expression. Suddenly he shook his head, almost like a sign of " fuck off ", and then __ the young man just shrugged and nodded back with his head, decided to take his course already imagining that he was not going to have any sale there.


	4. Four.

At Haneda Airport, there were already two people waiting for the boys who would arrive soon. Their police uniforms were flashy and the people around them looked at those law enforcement officers as if they owed them something, which caused a certain sense of superiority and inflated ego in every police officer regardless of rank. That's what that sow corporation was holding up, after all.

The two waited for some time until they finally noticed the boys passing through the gate. One of them had black hair and the imposing figure as he walked carrying his two huge suitcases alone, while the other seemed more cornered as he straightened his glasses and scratched his red hair, rubbing his face with the sleeves of his giant sweater. The two Japanese looked at each other and laughed softly before calmly approaching the boys.

— Officer Choi and Officer Wonwoo? — One of them asked. 

— Yes, that's right. — The more robust of the duo responded, bowing minimally. — Officers Watanabe and Saito, correct? — He received a nod, discreetly yawning. — I apologize, but the journey was exhausting. We couldn’t sleep properly, we spent the last day in Korea gathering our important documents and files.

— No problem, we're just going to escort you to your quarters so they can leave your bags and then take them to the station to pick up your new uniforms, badges and leave the case files with the clerk. — Saito reported, causing the two Koreans to nod with their heads.

Soon the two were taken to their respective places of stay to leave their bags, being taken to the police station within minutes. Soon the two boys received their uniforms and were released by that day. The reddish was already ready to talk to his superior but suddenly saw him glaring at his police investigator badge with pride and thought it best not to bother him, already having a certain notion of how immersed he was when it comes to work.

** […] **

Minghao had both hands inside his jacket and walked in circles backstage, sweating cold. He could hear the clicks of the cameras outside and see its flashes going through the curtain, not wanting to believe he was there, but there was no turning back and he needed to do it whether he wanted it or not, it was the price of his fame after all.

His stomach was turning and aching, he felt he was going to throw up all his lunch — which were just a strange green juice that  Seokmin bought for himself and a vegan croissant — on the floor until he suddenly heard his name mentioned. He rubbed his face and shook with his hands, drying sweat with the sleeve of the denim jacket before forcing the best of his smiles and walking up to the big stage when he was finally called.

A sea of flashes almost blinded him and he had to hold onto the chair next to him so as not to fall dizzy on the floor, doing some poses and smiling before sitting down. At his side were other writers of all kinds, as popular as him. And, of course, in the middle was Lee Chan.

No one said this directly, but it was clear the almost palpable tension between the two all the times they were both in the same environment, especially when it came to the younger one. The only difference between the two boys, besides age, was that the Chinese wrote romantic tales, different from the Korean who preferred to bet on suspense or adventure. Besides, too, no bestseller of Chan has been adapted for the cinema.

There was no evidence of a disagreement between the two, but everyone could see in the redhead's face how nervous or troubled he was in Lee's presence, who seemed to feel the same way, even a little worse, when they were both together. Despite this they were always treated with education in front of the cameras even though it was already impossible to disguise the small friction. Even the fans didn't like  each other , always comparing the two.

—Well, as I was just finishing saying... — Chan said into the microphone, causing the tension to grow a little more. — I intend to deliver my new work soon, as soon as possible, the publisher is doing its best and I am grateful that the public and critics are being so understanding and patient with me. I guess I'd go crazy if it wasn't for that.

Laughs, few genuine, echoed through the place despite being muffled by the clicks and flashes, and soon a journalist stood up, raising his hand to be noticed among the crowd of hungry hyenas crazy to bite a piece of fresh meat.

— I am Shin  Tamago of the Yomiuri Shimbun. — He introduced himself, receiving a nod from the writers. — Minghao, what was your inspiration for creating the novel by Shinobu and Kutabe?

— Own and known experiences. While Shinobu is a young girl with many dreams,  Kutabe is a man wounded by life and wary because of the fear of opening up and being hurt again. The two discover and rediscover love at the same time. — He explained, feeling his chest filled with pride for his own creation. — Well, it's two young people discovering the best of life together. 

— I'm Matayoshi Ken of the Okinawa Times. — Another journalist secured his dinner in the jungle. — Were you satisfied with the changes in the story for the film adaptation? Did you know the actors? How's the filming process going?

— Well, I must confess that some changes have made me afraid, but I'm sure the director will do a good job with what he has at hand. I trust that man. — Answered the first question, clearing throat and repenting when he felt it sore. — Yes, I did! The recordings are happening here in Japan, so the first thing the crew did was take me to meet the actors. They're very kind and sweet people, I can almost see my characters there, as if they were real people. — The first genuine smile of the day arose. — And I regularly visit the studios when I'm not working on my new projects, so I'm having the privilege of following the filming process and I assure you that all those who liked " _ The Weak Side _ "  will not regret watching this adaptation .

— I'm Gen Terumi from NHK. Getting the hook, can you give us a preview of your next work? We contacted your publisher recently and they told us the book will be out in a month.

— Um, of course. — The boy closed his fisted hands on his lap and opened a forced smile, wanting to call the publisher's director and cuss at him until his throat gets sore. — Well, I won't reveal any more details, but I can say that I've come out of my comfort zone and that this is my most... peculiar work, so to say. It may not fulfill the expectations of all audiences, but I will understand, since most of my readers accompany me by the similarity of genres in my works.

— Minghao, here! I'm from the Asahi Shimbun.

** […] **

— I swear by all the existing gods, Jihoon, that it takes a grain of sand and lack of regular medication for me to drink a gallon of bleach and throw myself in the river. 

After hours of interviewing,  Seokmin managed to talk behind the scenes with the organizing team of the event and the Chinese was released early from that torture, only to warn his secretary that he would be home in two hours before walking the streets almost fainting from physical and mental exhaustion. He swore he was going to fall unconscious, but soon saw the façade of the neko café and rushed in, throwing himself into the chair.

— Why don't you ask for a vacation, eh? It's been a long time since you've been to rest, a few hours without typing isn't a vacation. — The blond murmured, perfecting in the coffee he was making for his best friend. 

— I'm not like you who have a boss, hyung. I'm my own boss. And my company breaks down if I take a vacation. — He laughed without humor and grunted, rubbing his face. — I should have stayed at Amazon, at least it wasn't going to rush me any further by telling me publicly about the deadline for my books.

— You can become an independent writer or find a better publisher, but you are stubborn...

— It is the contract, I still need to publish this new book and wait five months of promotion before rescinding. — Xu grumbled, sighing. — I didn't think living what I love would be so difficult, but it seems that things only get worse over the years. 

— But they also get better. You're rich, you're talented, you've got a legion of fans who love your works... — Lee scored, putting the latte on the boy's table and leaning over the counter. — Isn't that what you wanted?

— It was, but now... — He licked his lips, taking a sip of coffee and almost melting. — Now I don't know if all this suffering is worth it.

— Do you think I wanted to wear this ridiculous kitten tiara? No pain, no gain. — Jihoon crossed his spotted arms, shaking his head. — It's an expensive price to pay, maybe, but up front when I'm on a yacht snorting cocaine and cuddling a Golden Retriever I'll remember those shitty days and laugh. 

— I think I'm almost there for the cocaine spot, but without the yacht and the Golden Retriever. Maybe a mutt dog trying to find food in my fainted body.

— Stop being ridiculous, Minghao, your book is just finished and after that you won't have to write anything anymore, just promote.

— Yes, at least that... — he shrugged, realizing that the glass was already empty. — I need to get some sleep. This afternoon was shit.

— No pressure, go on. Send me a message when you wake up, so I know you didn't drank a gallon of bleach and threw yourself in the river.

Laughing quietly the Chinese fixed his jacket and got up after saying goodbye to his best friend, leaving the cafeteria, but suddenly he leaned against the wall and sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to put his head in place before trying to order an Uber at rush time.

Again that disturbing feeling of being observed filled the inside of the Chinese and his senses whistled danger, but he could not see anything. His eyes swept the surroundings lazily until he finally noticed a figure that seemed to stand out around the others. He was a tall man, just across the sidewalk, wearing a black overcoat that covered his entire body. He couldn't see his face because of the huge hat and sunglasses, but he knew he was the one who was staring at him for the way his body chilled when he stared at him back.

He was petrified in place, feeling a sudden shortness of breath suddenly hit him, but could not move even when his phone vibrated in his pocket, indicating that the private car had arrived. His legs softened and he really felt he was going to faint, but suddenly the sign on the other side got red and a sea of people hid the man, making Minghao's hand flatten into the glass behind him and squeeze it with his fingertips, almost as if he wanted to open a passage. More terrifying than seeing that stranger was not seeing him.

When the signal opened again, there was no longer any man in black standing still, not even a trace that he was there at some point. Another vibration in his pocket woke the boy from his trance and he checked the Uber license plate, getting into the car with the blurry view as he tried to calm the tremor of his hands and himself.


	5. Five.

— Luckily, Mr. Xu, Mr. Lee found you, or it could have been worse. — The doctor explained, making the secretary squeeze the hand of his boss more forcefully just to think that it could have ended in tragedy.

Quietly the professional removed the venous puncture, which ripped out a low grunt from the Chinese. The bag with the medicine administered was empty and then a bandage was made on his wrist, finishing the care. Seokmin escorted the doctor outside and said goodbye, returning in hurried steps and kneeling on the side of the bed on which the writer was lying.

— An overdose of medicine, Xu Minghao! An overdose! 1 The brownish pointed with a tone so indignant in his voice that he came to be comical. — I leave you alone for a sixth of a day and you get me ready! 

— I was very anxious, I’m sorry.

— Yes, I noticed by the four pills you took. Alone. No professional prescription. — The redhead shrank with the stare he received. — You know you can talk to me for whatever you need, I'm here to listen to you and help you, and I can be more than just a secretary, I can be your friend now. 

— I know, it's just... — He started, compressing his lips before finishing. — I don't know what to say. I don't know what's happening to me. It's complicated.

— I imagine so, but I also imagine that chugging down drugs won't help you at all.

Seokmin held Minghao's hands and kissed them fondly, smoothing them. The Chinese knew that he had no perverted or passionate intention, only purity, so he opened a small smile because he was still weak after vomiting in the whole room and in the bathroom also before he became unconscious. 

— I don't want to leave you alone, but you need some time and I need to cancel your schedule for the next three days. — The youngest muttered softly. — Rest, Minghao. Please.

— Ok.

— Will you promise me?

The pleading eyes appeared and there was Lee Seokmin using his angelic appearance capable of melting any heart of ice in his favor. The Chinese were quiet for a few seconds before sighing heavily, finally giving up just because he really needed to rest.

— I promise.

** […] **

Minghao was a first-rate liar.

He really wanted to rest and stay at home, so much so that he even slept for five hours straight, but suddenly he woke up again and found himself bored. He didn't even want to write or read that day so he dressed in one of his silk red robes and drank a generous glass of wine while watching TV, but only found himself more bored and a little groggy. 

Jihoon had already warned him by messages that he was regulating his sleep — and gave him a huge scolding after discovering through his secretary that he had overdosed on medication — so calling his best friend to visit him was not an option. He was already frustrated and thinking of shaving his head to get less bored, when he suddenly thought of a specific place. He bit his lower lip while thinking well about what he was about to do, but found himself throwing his robe on the floor as he ran to the closet, choosing some overcoat and one of his various sunglasses. 

Cautiously he left his apartment and then went down to the ground floor, getting into the Uber he had already called recently. The car left him in front of a karaoke bar, but he simply got down and kept walking until he entered a suspicious alley, which led him in a short time to  Kabukicho . Using his glasses in front of his face to disguise himself as he tried to remember the head path, the boy found himself wandering the dangerous streets late at night, alone and unarmed. A full plate for any bandit who would risk stealing a martial arts fighter, even if sick and drunk.

It wasn't long before he got down that street and saw  Scandale's sign flashing red, calling for his name. The line wasn't that long because it was a Monday, but even so the temptation of the Chinese was regressing and he no longer had so much desire to go into that place and look for fun with some boy or Vernon, with whom he had already become familiar and sympathized in a certain way.

He sighed and bit his lower lip hard, already thinking of returning home with his tail between his legs and ending up confessing everything to Seokmin when he was pressed by him, when suddenly a familiar figure caught his eye and gave him an even worse idea than the previous one.

Leaning against a wall while smoking a conventional cigarette, which was even light and strange for a drug dealer, was the boy of the night late. The Chinese's heart sped up and ran over in a few beats just thinking about the adrenaline that would be using drugs on the same day he overdosed on meds, but he was no longer thinking about anything else at that moment that was not going to go all the way.

He was approaching the brunette almost predatorily and even frightened him (he noticed the movement of the other to pick up the gun on his waist, but decided not to comment anything because being shot in a situation like that would be only a favor) with the speed that crossed the street, but was finally recognized when he removed his sunglasses from his face.

— Minghao, what a surprise! — He said, giving a little smile. — What are you doing here? 

— I came looking for you.

The question left the dealer confused.

— Me?

— Yeah. You, Soonyoung. 

The boy raised his eyebrows in disbelief and looked the youngest from top to bottom, surrounding him. He looked around and held the Chinese man's face crudely, forcing his eyes and checking his pupils before removing him and squinting his eyes, well suspicious.

— You, looking for me? — He questioned it. 

— I just want to get high, man, come on. 

The phrase caught the drug dealer off guard and he ended up laughing loudly, his typical infectious laugh that caused him to lose some of his dangerous pose when he was close to people he had a certain intimacy or trusted. Suddenly he stopped laughing and opened his huge coat, revealing his various pockets with the most varied drugs.

— So what do you want? Lemme tell you, I'm selling the best LSD in the region, the Yakuza is even behind me. — He joked, drawing a laugh from the Chinese.

— Um... I think that... A pin. Just a pin. — Said after pondering, getting a worried look.

— Are you that much  burried on shit? As well as I know, it's your first time using drugs.—  Soonyoung murmured, squeezing his coat with his fingertips. — Don’t you want something lighter?

— Just give me that damn cocaine, Soonyoung.

Minghao took a pile of notes in his wallet and handed it over to the dealer, who had no choice but to make the sale and deliver a cocaine pin to his client and acquaintance. 

— Good night-

The brunette barely had time to complete his sentence when the redhead stuck his pin in his pocket and ran away, disappearing into the alley. The dealer stood there with his thoughts, fighting alone, when he eventually gave in and went after the boy, already lamenting for the sales he could lose in the meantime that would pass off his point.

It wasn't too hard to find the writer, who was starring in a scene that would be comical if it wasn't tragic: kneeling on the floor, the boy was using a concrete relief on the floor as support. The entire pin cocaine was spread into careers upon the Chinese id and a rolled yen was helping him finish sniffing the middle career.

— Minghao, I think you'd better take it easy. — The brunette stuttered and came close, but the other did not stop. — Minghao!

He realized he wouldn't have much to do but use physical force to stop the boy from doing anything stupid, but Minghao's nose was faster than Soonyoung's hands, who managed to put the boy down and hold his head. His round nose was white and his eyes were a little opaque, almost like he was dead or something.

— Minghao, talk to me!

— Hm…

Cursing softly in Korean and wanting to take that kid down, the dealer reached the Chinese phone in his pocket and unlocked it with his fingerprint hastily, going straight into recent contacts. He found two numbers on the agenda and did not hesitate to contact them quickly, seeing a thin line of blood dripping down one of Minghao's nostrils.

** […] **

Jihoon rushed out of his Onix Chevrolet and ran out into the alley like a madman, looking for exactly the description of the location the boy gave him. It didn't take long to finally find his best friend unconscious in the drug dealer's arms.

— At last you have arrived!

— What did you sell him, Kwon Soonyoung? — Jihoon said as he took Minghao from the arms of drug dealer, accommodating the other's head in his lap. 

— Just a pin of cocaine, but I didn't think he was going to sniff it all now or alone! —He defended himself, not softening the look of rebuke of the other. — I tried to warn him, okay? My job is to recommend to customers, not to choose for them. 

— Minghao is not your client.

— He was, for today.

The two remained silent for a while until hurried steps were heard, getting closer and closer. Alarmed,  Soonyoung barely pulled the pistol out of his pocket, but  Seokmin's figure appeared and he practically threw himself to the ground along with the other two, hugging the unconscious one and speaking words mixed with crying. The other two boys watched the scene, quiet.

— Who is he? — The elder asked.

— Minghao’s secretary. Did you call him? — The blonde answered and asked, receiving a positive nod. — In that case, we're going.

— What happened to him? — Seokmin asked tearfully, getting friendly pats on the shoulder.

— He overdosed. 

—Another one?!

— That was drugs. —  Soonyoung said, being intensely stared by the two conscious young men. — Damn, I’ve messed it up.

— Yeah, you did. — Jihoon murmured, before dragging Minghao out of the alley with  Seokmin .

The drug dealer watched the trio walk away and bit his lower lip, staring at the secretary's silhouette for a long time.


	6. Six.

From the day he arrived in Japan, Officer Choi's routine was being relatively quiet. Of course, he was having a lot of work with the investigations at Shinjuku police station and from time to time wished he was back in Korea where he could rest, but since becoming the chief police investigator of Operation Beijing he knew no more the color or taste of a break.

But his partner, Officer Jeon, was being of great help as well as the rest of the corporation, because even with some different language barriers or working methods everyone cooperated with his duties and the police station was harmonious, making it clear that it was not by destination that he was working there now. The weight he used to carry on his back for the high office he had before was well divided.

What seemed to unpack itself from his quiet routine were the calls on the street. Officer Choi was already accustomed to answering small calls, such as intervening in discussions, being the reinforcement, small things and that he was already accustomed to dealing with in his day-to-day as a law enforcement officer — but in Japan it was completely different.

He had already heard some rumors in his old police station and his own superior alerted him personally before his trip about a certain place in Shinjuku, but did not want to be shaken or frightened before the hour. It turns out that now, seeing with his own eyes, it was hard not to believe the rumors about Kabukicho.

A red-light district, the place was not only crowded with brothels but also drug cartels, bookmakers and even some Yakuza meeting points, which made violence and police calls much more recurrent in that particular area. It wasn't too hard for the boy to see his mates coming out to answer calls in that district, always involving fights or even killing. Little did he know his day has come.

— Officer Choi! — He heard the voice of his superior.

— Yes, sir! "He answered, taking a sip of his coffee.

— We have an incident in  Kabukicho and all the other officers are busy. — Choi pushed his inner cheek with his tongue and sighed discreetly. — Do you think you can handle it?

— Yes, sir.

He took the key to one of the vehicles in the keychain and left, straightening his uniform on the way. His passive and smiling expression was dissolving until he finally got into the car with his face frowning, his eyebrows joined in sharp annoyed as his lips formed a sort of beak. 

— Try a contest for investigator,  Seungcheol , you're never going to have to answer calls on the street again. — He imitated his former superior, putting the key in the ignition. — They will respect your position in Japan,  Wonwoo will pick up your calls, don't worry. — He laughed humorlessly, pulling out with his car. — Bullshit.

He turned on the car siren and drove as fast as he could down the relatively empty street, not taking long to get to Kabukicho. He followed the specific address by GPS of the vehicle and then found the place right away, seeing a huge crowd ofundressed men and women around a single man fallen and injured.

He got out of the car with a pair of handcuffs in his hand and his pistol in his holster, clapping his hands to get those people's attention. Part of the movement dispersed as soon as the officer arrived and this increased his ego, but some others still remained close. 

— Okay, okay, everybody get away from here. — He commanded, lowering himself near the man. He was hurt a lot, which made the officer look around. — What happened here?

— He tried to break into the girls' dorm and attack them! — One of the boys said, hugging a girl. He could see his pajamas unbuttoned and sighed.

He handcuffed the man and led him to the vehicle, trapping him there. He locked the door and sighed before returning towards the brothel, crossing his arms and looking at those people with an indecipherable look, but that clearly left everyone there a little tense as they tried to guess what else the officer wanted there.

— Who is the... representative here? — Seungcheol asked, not receiving an immediate answer. — I need to check the site regulations and check the conditions. Brothels are illegal, you know that.

— Please, sir, don't do that.

A sweet voice  ressonated , drawing the attention of the policeman. In the midst of those frightened prostitutes came a beautiful boy like an angel. His hair was dyed in a dark shade of blue and he wore a transparent  sweat rob , revealing his spotted torso. He walked in slow steps to the law enforcement officer and hooked himself on his arm, leaning his protruding pectoral on the brunette's biceps.

— If the brothel closes, we'll have nowhere to go... — The prostitute's brown eyes have descended from the face of others to his badge, rising again. — We won’t get in trouble anymore, Mr. Choi. Please.

Seungcheol knew it was unethical, knew more than anyone, but he couldn't do that. Not with the most handsome boy who ever laid his eyes asking him so fondly, with those persuasive eyes, the beautiful lips begging him, that was too much for him. He just sighed and sat his hat, biting his lower lip before dismaying the touch of boy and returning to the vehicle, entering. He slowly accelerated and passed through the prostitutes, watching the look of the bluish accompany him until he was gone. With a racing heart,  Seungcheol saved that address in the notes on his cellphone.

** […] **

Minghao woke up with his head throbbing and grumbled very softly as he tried to move, but  Seokmin's strong arms stopped him and soon the brownish was already hugging him tight, tearing away a very low groan of pain. Over the broad shoulders of his secretary, the youngest could see Jihoon's serious and indignant look itself, which made him give a uncertain smile. 

— Two overdoses on the same day, Xu Minghao. Frankly... — He shook his head.

— I told you to count on me if you need it! —  Seokmin whimpered, holding the face of others with both hands. — Why did you do it, huh?!

— I... I do not know. — Minghao gave up, sighing. — Since yesterday I'm so nervous I don't know what to do. 

Jihoon smoothed his best friend's hand as he was embraced by his secretary, which made the Chinese a little more comfortable and calm. Suddenly he sighed heavily, drawing the attention of his two companies.

— I think someone's following me. And he's not an ordinary stalker. It's someone professional. — Minghao said, seeing the worry take over the gaze of his friends. — It's been three days, but yesterday I saw a guy all in black... He was just standing there, just looking at me. Without saying or doing anything. Then the signal closed and I lost sight of him... I'm sorry, I got scared and wanted to cool off.

— I'm glad you told us, but you never do that again! — Seokmin said, worried.

— Well, now that it's all cleared up I need to go, I'm tired from work and I've never made as much physical effort as today to carry you. — Jihoon warned his best friend and said goodbye, leaving.

The two friends were left alone after the door slammed and then the Chinese stared at the elder.

— It's because he was dating Soonyoung, but they broke up.

— Who?

— The dealer.

— Oh.

—  Soonyoung may be a quiet guy, but he can be very dangerous because of his company. — Minghao warned. — Be careful with him, you hear?

— I’ll be, Hao.


	7. Seven.

The blue-haired boy had to force the spark wheel twice with the tip of his thumb until the lighter lit up and burned the tip of the cigarette, which rested between his index finger and middle. He puffed the tobacco and put his head aside, slowly blowing smoke as he watched his partner violently fuck a scandalous customer to the extreme.

His long brown hair fell over his face and sometimes he needed to stop the frantic rhythm to fix the sweaty locks, but soon he resumed his work masterfully. The man beneath him came in a scandalous groan and fell softly on the mattress, causing the prostitute to remove the condom and masturbate quickly before painting the back and buttocks of the costumer with his semen. Soon after recovering, the client left.

— That was the time I came faster, fuck. — The bluish scolded, drawing a laugh from his work mate. The brown sat on his lap and gave him a little peck, taking the cigarette of himself.

— What about that cop, hm? — The hairy asked, earning an arch of eyebrows from the other. He puffed his cigarette and opened a smile, letting out the smoke through his nostrils. — Don't do that face, Jisoo. I know you. I know exactly who you are.

— It was just for him to leave, you know we've been bad luck with the law lately. — Sighed, earning a cigarette-like peck.

Suddenly the brownish free hand went up the back of the head of the head of the other and pulled him back through the thinning hair of the place, forcing his tongue against his mouth in order to open it. The muscles collided rudely and intertwined like two snakes trying to mate, a noisy suction being left in place by bluish. The obscene sounds and snaps echoed through the cigarette-scented room and the two boys were having fun until Jisoo undid the kiss to smoke again.

— You think that guy's trying to do an investigation or something? — He asked, getting a shrug in response.

— Hey, you two. — Vernon's head appeared at the door. — The boss wants to talk to you.

** […] **

— Shit, I always forget to put the away.

Living alone was a blessing: peace, tranquility, privacy, without charges or need to deal with other people and their different routines and personal aspects. He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted and as he pleased, procrastinate, tidy up the house his way and create his own schedule without having to rely on third parties for it. The only person, however, who became the exception to the rule, which changed everything was the garbage man.

Always immersed in his scriptures or resting when he was more than 5 minutes free, it was not difficult for the Chinese to miss the time or forget the exact day when the trash in the building was collected, so always needed to gather all the dirt in a single huge bag and run out the stairs always in slippers and silk robes. It was not uncommon to run into a neighbor with whom he had no intimacy and end up showing half of his bare pectoral in his desperate run, but after the ninth consecutive week he seemed to have gotten used to it. 

On the ground floor, the boy ran through the parking cars as if his life depended on it and swept the room with his eyes blurred looking for the caretaker, who coincidentally was passing towards him with some garbage cans. He almost threw himself at the feet of the man, who seemed to be sorry to see his state deplorable.

— Garbage? — The clerk asked.

— Garbage. — He confirmed, panting.

With his pride intact and feeling satisfied, the Chinese then walked slowly towards one of the ground floor toilets, where he washed his hands and face to take off some of the sweat that accumulated thanks to his desperate rush to throw away the trash. When he left, however, again that same bad feeling of being observed filled his chest as he walked back. 

He kept his pace slow in the hope of being just paranoid, but the slower he walked the worse the  tightening on his chest became. He didn't know exactly when, but suddenly his strides were so wide that he was practically already running towards the stairs again as if it were saving him from a possible bad fate. As always the bad luck was breathing in the back of his head, as soon long fingers closed around his wrist in a firm grip.

A shiver ran through Minghao's entire spine and he widened his eyes, beginning to sweat cold in torrential quantities through extreme and differentiated places. He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes, breathing deep before turning around once as his free hand tried to fetch the small pocketknife he always carried in his pocket when he left. What he saw, however, brought him a mixture of relief and anger.

— Can we talk? — It was Mingyu, his ex.

Kim Mingyu was a beautiful, charming boy. He met his future partner in college while studying photography and spent virtually the entire course nurturing feelings for him, but only had the courage to call him after graduate. What began with a simple, uncommitted roll soon evolved into a two-year courtship, which was practically a model of relationship for those who knew the two.

What none of them knew was Mingyu's extreme need to be the center of his boyfriend's attention, always controlling him and preventing him from growing up so that they would continue glued to almost 100% of the time — and almost insane jealous with friends and professional contacts of the rising writer. Exhausted from all those abuses, the Chinese broke up with the boy and  banned him from his life to the point of forbidding him in the lobby to go up to his apartment. It was three years without getting involved with him, and things were perfect like that.

Well, at least for the Chinese. Of the countless times Minghao had to change numbers thanks to numerous unwanted calls or undue leaks, at least three of them were Kim Mingyu's sole fault. Now trained, he worked as a journalist (and, secretly and illegally, as paparazzi) and did not have so much time to bother him, but seemed to have taken a break just to do so.

— Can we talk? — Mingyu asked again, biting his lower lip.

Minghao rolled his eyes and pulled his wrist with violence, rubbing the spot that was gently marked by the fingertips of his ex. He sighed and massaged his temples, already tired of it.

— I haven't had anything to talk to you about in three years. Why would I change my mind now? — He asked, rolling his eyes again. — And you better get out of here before some security guard sees you and ends up kicking you out, you're still forbidden to enter.

Wanting to avoid any kind of unnecessary conversation or onslaught the Chinese turned his back on the other and walked away, deciding to hide behind a car instead of entering the building directly to ensure that the other was not following him or accompanied by someone. Soon Mingyu left and the boy could sigh relieved, getting up and bumping into someone.

The Chinese barely hit the ground, but the rigid body still in the middle of the path almost made him take a nasty fall. He got up and was ready to apologize, that's when he saw that black overcoat and hat covering part of his face. He was a tall boy and he seemed to take advantage of it, as he approached and made Xu shrink more and more until his back touched the car, preventing him from running away. He thought about screaming for help, but his voice just wouldn't come out and everyone decided to disappear at that moment.

— A month.

When he was fully cornered, that face seemed to be known to him. The voice was not at all familiar, but looking into those feline eyes was like visiting an amusement park he used to visit as a child. Until he realize how bland toys are. And dangerous. And maybe the lock will loosen when you're taking a little walk in a double loop. That look was frighteningly penetrating and familiar, but the memory failed him.

He didn't have much time to remember that man because soon he was already turning his back on him and walking away. In a single second that he used to close his eyes and regain his calmness, the stranger had already disappeared completely as if he had never been there. Shaky and confused, all Minghao was able to do was go around the block to take the elevator, because he knew he was shaking too much to climb so many flights of stairs.


	8. Eight.

When he arrived at his apartment it hasn’t hit him yet and Minghao was still trying to process that scary and strange encounter. He lay on the bed and used his phone for a few minutes before resolving to nap for a more minutes, but finally he seemed to remember who that man was and his heart sped so fast that he had to grab his chest, falling to the ground while he felt the pain consume him.

Flashes and distorted memories from ten years ago began to invade the head of the boy who was already throbbing in pain as well as his chest, which ached and pulsed so fast that it gave him the slight impression that he was going through a stroke. His trembling hand clung to the edge of the corner table and then he snored his body, throwing himself face-to-face on the mattress and screaming muffled. He turned his belly up and pulled the air desperately, with both hands gropping his chest so tight that his nails made small bruises on sensitive skin.

Wen Junhui actually found him to charge him the 12232.58 yuan after 10 years and he did not doubt how much that man planned for this event to the point of waiting for a whole decade until he found him and following him until he found out his address and a way to charge him. He might even have ended his life right there, but apparently wanted to torture him psychologically, giving him a goddamn 30-day deadline.

Money definitely stopped being a problem for Minghao 6 or 7 years ago to the point of being able to pay the loan shark with fees and whatever else he wanted, but definitely his despair came from having a loan shark on his tail just when he managed to take off in the writing career he dreamed of having so much. 

There were a lot of people who expected the slightest of failures in the writer's conduct to get him out of stardom and give his place to some other, so if the information that he managed to get where he got it using criminal methods fell into the wrong hands not only his career but also his personal life would be ruined thanks to the hardening of Japanese laws over the years , when the arrival of immigrants grew.

Suddenly he remembered Seokmin and his shaky fingers fetched the phone, but his courage completely disappeared in the blink of an eye. He definitely couldn't know about it, nor did Jihoon, who had known him much longer and was not aware of his dark past either. He bit his lower lip and staggered to the mirror, and then saw some marks almost disappearing on his back after night in the brothel.

It didn't take long for him to team things up and then wear an ounce fur coat over his white blouse and black shorts, hiding his lack of style at the time. He put in his pocket some notes and a pack of cigarettes, ordering a private car then on that very street near  Kabukicho .

He got out of the vehicle and walked quietly along the already decorated path, almost as if he were a man of life about to do something very wrong (not that financing irregular establishments linked to criminalized professions was the right thing to do) in those dark alleys. He left and quickly mingled with passers-by, taking his quick steps until finally reaching his destination: Scandale. The line was small so he went in and left his head a little low, still wanting to be careful because he was already risking more than enough. The security guard released him and then he started looking for Vernon.

— Wait a minute, boy. 

The Chinese froze in place for mere seconds before turning in the direction of the voice that called him, so powerful amid all the sounds of the brothel. One hand touched his shoulder and soon the blond man had his arms intertwined around his neck, looking at him with his brown eyes as he smiled. If it wasn't for the gold chains on the red-haired robe, Xu would easily mistake that man for one of the prostitutes and ask for his services.

— That little face of yours... — the stranger murmured, biting his lower lip. — It's so familiar, honey. Where do I know you from?

— I-I have no idea. Are you sure you didn't confuse me with someone? — Minghao laughed blandly, trying to dodge the penetrating gaze that that boy was casting at him. A very strong sexual  aurea emanated from him. 

— This face is too unique to be confused. — The blonde blinked, making the other swallow hard. — A celebrity, maybe... Don't worry, sweetie, no one's going to know you were here. Have a good time.

A little peck was left on the lips of the Chinese and he watched the strange walk elegantly up to a lighted door in a discreet corner of the brothel, with a very bright sign written "office". Carved at the door was " Seungkwan ". By instinct the young man licked his lips and then looked around, looking for the stranger who provided him with a wonderful night of pleasure.

He ended up running the whole brothel and couldn't even find the boy's shadow, which made him a little discouraged. He then decided to have a drink so as not to waste his time and sat on one of the stools, but two pairs of hands clinging to each arm took him out of the little trance that entered him while the bartender prepared his drink.

— Looking for Vernon? — One of the boys who grabbed him asked, giving a small smile. His face was beautiful and his hair was blue, very flashy.

— It's a shame, he's off today. I'm  Jeonghan and he's Jisoo. Why don't you come have fun with us? — The other said, making a beak. His hair was long and brown, falling into straight strands across his shoulders. — I assure you, you won't regret it...

** […] **

Joshua's dragged, treble groans echoed as Minghao's face hid under his ass. He lowered himself and then stole a kiss from Jeonghan, who took the cock from the bottom of his throat to retake the air. Soon the two took to a clumsy blowjob, which made the young writer practically melt in bed while moaning muffled, doing his best to please the prostitute sitting on his face.

The two partners exchanged glances of complicity and then walked away from the redhead, who needed a few minutes recovering before understanding what was happening. A condom was worn in his cock and he smiled sideways, welcoming the bluish on his lap while the brownish was between his legs, also wearing lubricated latex.

Quietly the American lined up the other man's cock between his buttocks before forcing himself down, closing his eyes in delight and letting a low sigh escape his rosy lips. Behind him was the brunette, who then forced his glans into the Chinese muscle ring hard enough to break his resistance, filling the client's warm interior. The three groaned together, making the atmosphere of the room get even hotter. 

The first moves were a bit clumsy but soon both prostitutes were pleasing the client the way they knew. Jisoo's delicate hands leaned on Minghao's broad shoulders and then began to ride willingly, having the other's hands on his thighs.  Jeonghan used his partner’s waist as support and left kisses on his shoulders and neck, only to visually please the boy below him as he fiercly fucked his ass.

Suddenly the Chinese stood calmly and used some pillows to lean back on the bed and then be able to kiss the American, who wrapped his arms around his shoulders while taking his lips willingly, intertwining his tongues awkwardly as he continued to go up and down on the cock with the aid of his legs. The other prostitute got into the new position and continued moving his hips rhythmically, plucking more needy moans from the client.

— My friend is in there, let me go! — An exclamation outside interrupted the sex.

The two prostitutes seemed not to care a bit about the interruption, but the Chinese seemed to recognize the author of that scandal (at Scandale's door) and wide-eyed, gently signaling that the boys would let him out of bed. He peered across the glass porch and then sighed deeply, biting his lower lip hard. The long-haired boy came after him and looked too, holding laughter.

The movement had slowed down a bit because of the schedule so luckily there was no one outside looking at that show, but even so the security guards and the blonde who had stood by him were on the sidewalk looking at Seokmin in complete state of outbreak being held by a curious  Soonyoung who was passing at that moment and recognized the secretary. 

— Are you his friend? — Jeonghan asked, holding back the laughter. 

— I am. — Minghao replied, in a bitter tone. 

The boy just gave up and began to search for his clothes dropped on the floor, causing the two prostitutes to exchange  discreet and pitiful looks discreetly. Joshua got up from the bed still naked and fetched a cigarette in the drawer of the corner table, walking towards the customer already dressed.

— How much do I need to pay? — The redhead asked, receiving a giggle in response.

— Half of what you'd pay. It's courtesy. — The bluish winked at him and took some notes from the back pocket of the other, placing the cigarette between his lips without receiving resistance. — This is  courtesy too. 

Minghao just laughed blandly and waited for the prostitute to light his cigarette, nodding his head. He soon left the room, not even realizing that Vernon had been hiding behind the curtain since he was attended to, exchanging discreet, secret looks with Jeonghan all the time.

— Hey, redhead! —  Jeonghan said, putting his head out of the curtain. — There's a way out of employees in the back, you can go out there. 

— Thanks.

Following the instructions of the prostitute Minghao managed to take a deserted street and then quickly arrived in a safe place, asking for an Uber home. When he entered the apartment and undressed his clothes he remembered that he needed to talk to Seokmin and sighed, dialing the boy's number as he settled on his couch.

— Minghao, why were you in a whorehouse?! — It was the first thing the brownish screamed.

— First, how did you find me? And second... Do I really need to explain?

— I installed a tracker on your phone, but that's not the focus now! —  Seokmin seemed to be ashamed after other's questions but did not stop. — Can't you just go a day without doing something that will completely ruin your professional or personal life?

— Honestly? No. — Minghao tried to play, but only received as an answer the silence of a very concerned friend. — Look, I just wanted to have sex, okay? I'm stressed to the extreme. I don't want to have sex with any fans and I don't think it's going to happen with you either, so it's those guys I need to have fun with. 

— ... Just let me know next time, okay? I feel like a useless friend and secretary every time I meet you in bad situations because I don't seem to be good enough to help you with anything.

Seokmin's sad outburst made a huge weight of guilt fall on Minghao's back and he swallowed dry, thinking of starting to be more honest with his loyal squire and opening the shady about his dirty past. Despite this this will soon disappeared and he just took a deep breath, biting his lower lip before thinking of words of consolation. 

— I'm sorry, Seokmin. You're a wonderful secretary. And an even better friend. — The compliment made the brownish smile on the other side of the line. — I promise I'll be more honest with you from now on. Serious.

But again, Minghao was a first-rate liar.

— Then you can start now. —  Seokmin was shrewd. — Explain to me how you know Soonyoung. And right, this time.

— He and Jihoon were lovers for a while, but then Jihoon found out he was a drug dealer and broke up with him after almost being arrested. — He ended the curiosity of his friend, who muttered a "ah" softly. — Why, do you want to get involved with him?

— What?! No! — The brownish was nervous, making the redhead laugh. 

— Relax, I'm just kidding. But, look,  Soonyoung is dangerous. He and I are only known because even I know it's not good to be hanging out with him. — Minghao warned. — Be careful with him, you hear? Promise me you won't be hanging out with him. 

— Relax, he only helped me because he remembered me. I don't get into these things, no.

—That's right then. I'm going to take a shower and rest. Bye.

— Bye, bye!


	9. Nine.

** A week later. **

It was not an easy job for either Korean police man to adapt to the new routine after a wave of complaints and new cases began to happen, in addition to "Operation Xian", which was the case in which both were operating in South Korea before being transferred. A break was rare and the clearances were a long way from arriving, so resting was not an option.

However, one day, luck decided to smile in Jeon Wonwoo's favor. Running through the police station in a hurry, the boy was soon searching for his Korean superior as fast as he could while hugging the pile of files against his chest as if they were the most precious asset of all. Time and time again I ended up bumping into some co-worker but only had time to bow quickly in excuses, because he was dying of haste.

— Mr. Investigator Choi! — He saluted after knocking on the office door, receiving his own attention.

— Come in, Wonwoo.

The reddish came in and closed the door behind him, sitting in the vacant chair. The other had his arms crossed, making his muscles stand out thanks to the tight uniform, watching his subordinate take some papers from the small brown briefcase before placing them in his field of vision, forcing him to put on his glasses to read what was written.

— I was able to find a man, a single man who had a phone in that poor neighborhood in Shenzhen. — He explained to his boss, while he read the archives. — He works in the metropolis so he walked the whole village until he got to work.

— Officer Jeon... — The brunette murmured, lowering his glasses and staring at the boy over them. — Forgive me, but what does that have to do with the case we're investigating?

— This man says he saw two young men trading in a poor village of Shenzhen about 10 years ago. —  Wonwoo explained, making other people's eyes shine. — In the same period two people were murdered in that same place, with a difference of one month, and according to the witness one of the boys may be responsible for these deaths.

— And does he have a name? — Seungcheol asked, looking at the papers. 

— Not yet. Two agents from here were sent to the village to gather more information, but the exact name of any suspects is not yet known. — Jeon explained, swallowing hard. — It's already progress, in a month and a half investigating the case in Korea we haven't even got a single lead.

—The phone... — The investigator muttered suddenly.

Choi got up in a spare and pulled the phone off the hook, dialing the number printed on one of the papers his subordinate brought him. He hit his foot in jitters while the call was not answered and crossed his arms, having the nervous eye of the other officer himself. The office stood silently until the elder popped his tongue into the roof of his mouth in frustration, putting the phone back on the hook and sitting while massaging his temples.

— Nothing? — The reddish asked. 

— No, nothing. — The brunette answered, with sharp frustration in his expression. — I want you to go back to your post and call in every 40 minutes. If anyone answers, let me know immediately.

— Yes, Mr. Choi Investigator.

** […] **

After nearly four days without any kind of public appearance, Minghao finally returned to his activities with a fan gathering organized at a local mall. The news that the boy was well and summoning his loyal readers ran not only the city but also neighboring cities and in less than seven hours all tickets were sold out, which was not new when it came to the popularity of the writer. 

Finally the day of the fan gathering arrived and then the Chinese was at the venue, wearing a green sweatshirt and jeans — because of the cold, his plans to dress elegantly went down the drain and he had to prioritize temperature rather than elegance. Seokmin had brought him some water and a very light puff pastry, so this time he wasn't nauseous like the last time he was seen in public.

It didn't take long to get up on the little improvised stage and smile as he heard the euphoric screams of his fans. Despite all the shit he needed to endure because of his work and all the irreversible damage done to his emotional and psychological, the people who loved his works and supported him above all were the strength that was keeping him standing through all those difficult years. His smile was true, from ear to ear.

With the help of the event organizers, quietly fans were lining up to have their books autographed. The Chinese talked to them, smiled, took pictures, held their hands and even gave a spoiler or two to make someone's day happier; at events like those, the paparazzi, stalkers and photographers splendored with the rare photos of the laughing boy and having fun as the young man he was, as there was a secret pattern among the writers to keep the pose as serious and snob as possible even at times like that.

It was already the fiftieth-third book that the Chinese signed when a strangely familiar figure appeared in front of him, wearing a black overcoat. The security guards had thought of barring whoever that person was, but they had bought their ticket like everyone else and managed to get in line. The glasses hid the face of the others up to his rosy strands and the redhead's eyes widened a little when he finally recognized Lee Chan. 

— Beautiful event, isn't it? — The younger one murmured, smiling from the side.

— What are you doing here? — The Chinese murmured with gritted teeth, trying to fake a better expression than the one he really wanted to do at that moment. — Don't you get tired of trying to sabotage me?

— I'm finally done, because I've found that you're going to sabotage yourself. — The Korean spoke, making the minimally irritated expression of the redhead become concerned. — You'd better enjoy it while you can. 

He didn't know if that was a threat or a warning, but he didn't like the tone his rival used and the expression he made when he said those malicious words. He was ready to call one of the security guards and get the boy out of there when all of a sudden he put a book on the small table, waiting for his autograph. On camera, the eldest had no choice but to sign the damn book with his hands trembling with anger. 

— Your time is up, Minghao. — The rosy blinked, rising and leaving.

Minghao watched Chan leave the small stage and down the steps quietly as he straightened his disguise, disappearing completely into the crowd of fans. The rest of the encounter followed normally but many fans noticed how tense and troubled the writer seemed to be, casting increasingly mechanical and forced smiles. The event ended three hours later and then the boy was free to go. 

He managed to lose Seokmin after warning him that he was going to take a walk to unlight, probably going to Jihoon's café, and dismissed his security guards, leaving the mall after fans and paparazzi gave up bumping into the boy discreetly to get some personal information from him. He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and then began to walk in a hurry, wanting to get home soon. 

That same piercing feeling of being watched affected Xu, but not even that stopped his hurried steps. Did Chan find out about the drugs? Maybe about the whorehouse? Why was his time counted? All those questions were making the boy dizzy, who was already having trouble getting to his apartment. 

Finally after what seemed like an eternity the Chinese arrived in his condo and made his way to the elevator, anchoring himself in the glass while letting some tears fall — perhaps of despair, perhaps of anger, perhaps of weariness. The door opened and he fetched his keys in his pocket, putting the key in the back of the door, but it was pressed in it with violence before he could even enter the house. 

There he was, Wen Junhui. This time his clothes were more casual and less discreet, as if he was no longer trying to hide or go unnoticed. He used his strength to hold Minghao's two hands against the wood and approached, scan well the frightened expression the younger was making while being cornered right there in his apartment. 

—Three weeks. 

Again, a single sentence. The brownish dropped the lower and then turned on its back, beginning to walk towards the stairs and go down unhurriedly. Minghao anchored himself at the door wide-eyed and took a deep breath, unlocking the door with difficulties thanks to the tremor in his hands.

— Hao, wait!

The Chinese jumped and turned, but almost withered with relief when he saw his best friend climbing the last rung of stairs and leaning on his knees, breathing with difficulty after having climbed all those flights of stairs. Jihoon noticed that the stranger he bumped into the staircase had come from the redhead's floor and also noticed his sharp nervousness, but decided not to comment on anything and just walked in while his friend was not yet passed out. 

The two were silent as they moved automatically: Minghao went straight to take a shower while Jihoon undressed and picked up one of the younger's shirts to wear, throwing himself into his king size bed. When the Chinese came out of the bath, the two lay side by side and it wasn't long before they were kissing as if there was no tomorrow, with naughty hands and hair pulling. 

— Today I got a break and bought a blunt from Soonyoung... — Jihoon muttered as Minghao handed out kisses on his neck, getting a quick look that meant how much the other wanted to smoke that joint. "And his secretary was there completely stoned with him. 

The detail made the Chinese stop what he was doing for laugh, being accompanied by his best friend. Soon the joint was lit and the two began to smoke after a stressful day, like two young friends.


	10. Ten.

Many professions are risky. Some in general, others in execution, some are about life, others of reputation, but it is a fact that many professions may have more to lose than to gain. One of these professions was to be paparazzi, and many entered this life even knowing all the cons that overcame the pros. 

One of those people was Kim Mingyu. He was tired of trying to ascend his career conventionally and, after losing the love of his life, he gained plenty of time to make other people's lives turn into hell and take off a lot of money with invasion of privacy and other crimes. He ended up losing the fear of having his life ended a long time ago and then that was his new secret breadwinner when he knew he could make more money than as a journalist. 

That particular day was covering a peculiar and very interesting request, made to him more than two months ago, but had only recently accepted after much thought. His nervousness was so much that his hands trembled, causing the camera to blur what he was trying to capture in the photo. He scratched his tongue in the sky of his mouth, frustrated.

He closed one eye and approached the camera's face, zooming in on his target as his finger pressed the shooting button, recording the moments requested by his client. A small smile was growing in the corner of his mouth as he realized how good the photos were getting, the adrenaline making his heart beat faster and faster.

— Can I see what you're doing, boy? — A voice frightened him, almost causing him to drop the camera.

When he turned his back, he found an ordinary man. He was wearing a brown sweater and jeans, but even though he was covered from head to toe his spotted arms and thick thighs stood out against the different fabrics, showing that that simple citizen was not just any wimp. 

— Um... No. Mingyu responded after crisping his lips, squeezing his fingers around his precious camera. 

— I'm afraid I can, yes. — The stranger insisted and stirred in the pocket of his coat, extending his hand at the height of the face of the tallest. — Officer Choi  Seungcheol of KOBAN's 3rd division. 

It was a badge. The man in front of him was an undercover cop and he had just denied his request. Holding the camera against his chest for a few moments, the photographer sighed discreetly and held the object toward Seungcheol's free hand, which opened a small smile. He kept it in his coat pocket and waved his head.

— You made the right decision, son. — The policeman disse, in a tone that could be clearly lost between the warning and the council. 

Watching his professional camera be taken along with the photos he spent more than two weeks taking, the young man just sighed in frustration once more and swallowed it dry, dialing the number already known as he walked to a more discreet location, as his hideout had already been discovered by the law enforcement officer.

The call took some time to be accepted, long enough for Kim Mingyu to gather a little more courage, but then he soon managed to hear the ambient sound on the other side of the line with some small phone hisses, showing that his client was just waiting for him to say something like he always did.

— I won't be able to deliver the photos to you tomorrow. — He said in a careful tone, almost as if he were testing the waters before entering. — There was a... Unforeseen.

— I'm not investing that much money in you for unforeseen events to happen, Mingyu. — The voice on the other side was severe, the tone indicating how unhappy the other was. — What was this "unforeseen"? I hope you have a good excuse.

— An undercover cop took my camera. I didn't see him coming or anything, he just came out of nowhere and asked me for the camera. I didn't want to give it to you because I thought it was some weird stranger, but then he showed me his badge and insisted. If I didn't, he could arrest me. — Mingyu explained, nervous. — I can try to take new photos with some other camera of mine, but I'm going to need to be more careful. 

The call fell silent with the paparazzi sweating cold underneath his brown overcoat and the client thinking, until he pulled the air between his teeth and caught the photographer's attention thanks to the sound. Either he had some idea, or he was about to ask for a refund to hire someone better. 

—I don't care, it could be with the camera of some cell phone, whatever, I just need the photos as soon as possible. I don't have time to waste. — He used a clear and imperative intonation, demonstrating that it was more of an order than a simple request. — And you better not get in trouble anymore, you hear me? I'm just paying you for a few more photos more money than you've ever received in three months of illegal work, so don't let me down. 

— All right, all right. — Kim nodded, biting his lower lip hard to the point of feeling the taste of blood.

Apparently the client had no further complaints or threats to make, because soon the call was terminated and the boy could breathe a sigh of relief. Rubbing his face with his hands to ward off the  hairthat stuck to his forehead grace to sweat, Mingyu swallowed dry and leaned his head against the wall on which he was propped, trembling. After that job he would definitely return to work honestly, because no money bought the dignity he was losing by doing the worst thing he could do.

** […] **

Since he arrived in Japan, Wen Junhui's investigations have been meticulous in the extreme. 

He already suspected Minghao as suspicious of all his clients so the next day he was already waiting for the boy in front of his house after 00:00, but he didn't show up. So it followed for a week, a month, a year, soon it was three years visiting that poor house of the peripheral village without even seeing the shadow of the boy. He decided to accept that he had been deceived. 

The idea of killing the entire Chinese family as revenge and how to bring him back crossed his mind, but suddenly he remembered the words the young man used to convince him on that cold moonlight night —the only thing that brought that home together was blood. Moreover, he felt that death would be a prize for those morbid and miserable people, who did not even mind themselves to seek for the boy even after he disappeared completely without a trace. A short time later the house was empty, but no local sit-in knew where the Xu sat. 

Another seven years passed and the loan shark continued his life, rich as he always was. The money he inherited from his family always let him live his life of luxury to the point of making him start in the criminal business precisely because he had nothing more to spend all that money on, and even after so many years he was still moneyed. His clients only increased, now a little less deadbeat thanks to the blow that hardened the young man, so the purpose of having fun had been lost between the decade. 

What rekindled his will and sadism was that blessed news. He was sipping a fancy imported drink while polishing the barrel of his gun when the news showed the new Japanese-American film that was tipped to gross more than five million in its first weekend in theaters. He didn't pay much attention to all that until that name came up. Xu Minghao.

Almost like an epiphany, Junhui lay his head back and began to laugh, with tears running down his cheeks uncontrollably. He spent three years visiting that filthy village in search of Xu Minghao without success and suddenly the information of where the boy was and how he was living fell right into his lap without even looking. 

The first thing he thought about was hunting him down and killing him right away, but suddenly a better idea came to mind — an idea that would bring back the old days, when he tortured his debtor clients and victims psychologically with all the refinements of cruelty. Ten years had passed, a few weeks wouldn't kill him.

He was soon contacting a hacker and a stalker, who gave him not only the neighborhood where Minghao lived but also some of the places where he used to frequent regularly. He arranged a simple accommodation and then bought the tickets, packing his bags for his new adventure in the land of the rising sun. It didn't take long to locate his target and discover not only the secret locations he frequented, but also the peculiar figures that surrounded him, such as a prostitute, an obsessed photographer and a drug dealer. He even found out about an alleged cop prowling the area, so the playground just got more funny.

The hunting season opened and Minghao was the prey of Junhui, the most sadistic of hunters.


	11. Eleven.

While some people risked it because they had nothing to lose, some risked everything even though they had a lot to lose. And even though that much was indeed a lot, these people didn't seem to give a damn about the long-term consequences of these losses. One of those people, obviously, was Choi Seungcheol. 

His career was built over time: he began at the lowest of the patents after he passed the public tender, to the happiness of his humble family who could not afford it, but in a short time was taking off when he managed to solve the most important and complicated cases. It didn't take long for him to become chief investigator of the police and to earn not only a lot of money but also social prestige and admiration from his colleagues and subordinates of the police station, which was the dream of anyone in any area.

Despite this, many did not know how to value what they had and that was beginning to become the case of the Korean, who was putting his career and clean record at risk because of a prostitute. The bluish boy has been on his head since the day of that incident in Kabukicho and has since not had a single night's sleep in peace, daydreaming about that boy so attractive and mysterious that he made him put his civic duties aside and succumb to his personal tastes. 

Worst of all was not just committing infractions at work, but outside of it as well. It was not for nothing that  Seungcheol was wearing a heavy coat and a muffled surgical mask in the middle of a hot night, almost cooking under those cloths. His cover was not for nothing, cause he was finally going towards the whorehouse he has longed to visit since he met with his obsession. 

He wasn't ashamed to ask his private car to leave him at the door of the brothel and paid the driver, getting out of the vehicle near the line he got into. Some people were waiting to get in so it took a few more good minutes until just a few steps and pieces of clothing would part the policeman from the prostitute, but as soon as he was released by the security guard a strange figure  pressed him against the wall, causing them both to blend in. 

— What's a cop doing here, disguised in my whorehouse? — The blond asked, placing the small knife that he held against the neck of the man.

The first reaction from the policeman was to take his hand toward the pocket, but the other boy's hand was faster and soon he was trapped, with a small fillet of blood dripping to which the blade sank further into his throat, causing him to pull the air between his teeth because of the sudden burning. 

— I'm going to ask you again. What are you doing in my whorehouse, Choi  Seungcheol ? — The tone of the other was more serious, making the eyes of the other hunt any direction other than the face of others. The hand holding his suddenly held his face, forcing him to look a,t the boy. He didn't look like a simple. — Don’t forget that you can be a police officer when you are in uniform, but inside my place you are a mere civilian and will be treated as such. 

Seungcheol walked through the whorehouse for help but all he saw were prostitutes undressing, dancing and drinking with customers. Some even stared at the scene with amusement in their eyes, almost as if they were used to seeing customers being surrendered and threatened with cold weapons every night. 

— Seungkwan?

A voice was present in the midst of all those sounds and, walking like an angel, a young man was calmly standing between the policeman and the apparently owner of the brothel. His ass stuck between the legs of the brunette, who closed his eyes and tried to think of sad things so as not to get excited just while being threatened with a knife. 

— Did he come to see you? —  Seungkwan asked, receiving a nod from the prostitute. — All right then. Keep an eye on him.

Lowering the knife that pointed at the already blood-squeaking neck of the other, the brothel owner kept the knife in the bar of his underwear and turned around after throwing a heavy look at the undercover cop, walking to his personal office and disappearing. The long-haired prostitute turned in Choi's direction and shook his head, flashing him a smile. 

— Come with me, I know who you came to see. — He spoke, pulling the other by the wrist. 

Half in shock the boy was dragged by the prostitute, crossing that sea of drunk people dancing. He climbed a flight of stairs still being pulled by his hand and walked down an extensive hallway, hearing a tune of people scandalously in every possible room. His cheeks burned a little, but he didn't have time for shyness when the brownish pulled out a plastic curtain that revealed the last room.

His eyes shone like that of a child seeing his Christmas presents and his heart missed some beats when he laid his eyes on the boy lying on the bed: his blue hair was half rebellious and in his eyes light lenses rested, giving him an even more ethereal look. His lips were covered with a thin layer of transparent gloss and his cheeks were rosy with blush, which gave an innocent contrast to the cropped white lace blouse adorning the boy's spotted torso. A simple black short completed the look, along with the little angel tiara on his head —  Jeonghan's look was identical, except that his cropped was red and the tiara on his head was a little devil.

— Now that I've saved your ass, you owe me some questions, Mr. Choi  Seungcheol . — Jeonghan, the little devil, surrounded the other, his eyes half-closed. — Why are you here? Last time you’ve been here here, you tried to arrest our boss and close our house. 

The question caught the cop in the way, who began to sweat cold. He tried to formulate some coherent phrase and even opened his mouth to say it, but nothing came out. Realizing the policeman's nervousness, the brownish only made him smile like a maniac, walking towards the man and making him walk backwards, towards the bed. 

— Are you here on an investigation, Choi? Do you think we have any involvement in any crime? — Provoked again, loving to confront the law enforcement officer and see him unanswered as a mongrel dog. — Are we going to have to take care of you so you can stop messing with our stuff?

— Hannie, take a break, won't you? — The bluish asked, rising.

Seungcheol was embraced from behind and chilled all over, and could feel the warm breath of the other in his ear. A bite was left on his lobe and his eyes closed in delight as he enjoyed the touch, getting drunk with the sweet smell of his perfume. The two prostitutes exchanged quick and discreet glances, smiling as they realized they had the same idea.

— Did you come to see me, Cheollie? — Joshua muttered softly, planting kisses on the cop's neck. — Is that why you're here?

The officer continued speechless, but this time managed to shake his head positively in response to the question. The call boys smiled again and then  Jeonghan straddled himself in the man's lap, which wrapped his waist with one arm while using the other to pull the American and kiss him.

** […] **

Three hours of pure wild sex. The sounds of the boys were the loudest in the hall and even the other prostitutes went to listen or spy when they finished their services, since even from the staircase one could hear the groans and requests by more of the client and even the other two. 

The bed stopped hitting the wall after a long time and then the three were soon naked and sweaty in bed, with the policeman sleeping on the chest of his passion while the other prostitute removed in his clothes dropped to the floor with a cheeky smile adorning his beautiful lips. 

— Han, what are you up to? — Joshua whispered softly, feeling the warm, heavy breath of the other pounding his neck.

— I just want to know more about him, relax. Are you afraid of being arrested? —  Jeonghan provoked, taking the officer's wallet. He threw a pile of money at his partner and began to see the man's papers, making grimaces while photographing everything. — He's 30 years old, only a few months older than us! Well maintained, still great in bead... Why doesn't he drop the corporation and come into prostitution too? He would become one of  Seungkwan’s favorite in matter of time. 

The two prostitutes laughed softly, but suddenly a shot outside scared them both and woke the officer, who jumped out of the bed. The man made the two boys duck down on the side of the bed and put on their clothes in a hurry, leaving the room as he listened to the other call boys and desperate customers running from side to side. 

He arrived on the ground floor in a matter of seconds and walked through the door after passing security, running into the middle of the street. His  wided eyes were trapped in the figure wearing a black overcoat still in front of him, like an old-west movie. A 356 TSW was in his hand, pointed up with smoke coming out of the pipe, and he looked around, looking like he has found what he was looking for when he laid eyes on Choi and smiled broadly. 

The boy began walking in calm steps toward him and then  Seungcheol desperately searched for his gun in his pockets, beginning to sweat cold when he remembered that he did not take his pistol with him for fear of being searched and recognized. His reaction was to pretend he was armed, but it didn't do any good. Soon, he was already face to face with the stranger.

— Are you the cop looking for Wen Junhui? — The tone of voice used was playful. — Well, know that you’ve just found him.

The other raised his face and then the lamppost lighted him, showing his young face and sadistic smile. For the first time in his life the officer felt something close to impotence, as he was with the main target of the investigation right in front of him and could not arrest him or kill him, not even call for reinforcements.

—I wish you good luck... — Junhui murmured with disdain. — Choi Seungcheol. Catch me if you can.

Defeated and with his ego injured, Seungcheol watched the loan shark walk down the deserted street as he turned his gun to an alley and disappear, leaving him alone and still in shock. He bit his lower lip hard, wanting to scream with anger until his chest tightened by the shortness of breath. He felt a vibration in his pocket and took a deep breath, taking the phone out of there and answering the call. 

— Hello, Mr. Investigator Choi? — It was Wonwoo. — Where are you?

— O-On the street, why? — Stuttered, clearing his throat. Did something happen?

— I need you here at the station, I found out something about Operation Xian. 

— I'm on my way, wait a minute. — He warned, hanging up.

With no choice, the boy just set up his twisted clothes and then took his course, walking slowly down the dimly lit street. Three figures were standing at the door of the whorehouse, all very distinct: Vernon faced him as if analyzing him, Seungkwan looked at him with suspicion and Jeonghan observed him with a smile on his face, already knowing that he would still find him more often and that this would not be his last confusion there.


	12. Twelve.

In another episode of stubbornness,  Seungcheol tried to search in vain for the Chinese in the nearby establishments and surrounding streets, but he simply disappeared in the same way it appeared. Even more frustrated, finally, he gave up and asked for a private car to the police station since he had left his at home.

He went down in front of the building and rushed in, seeing a few colleagues working late. It was in a hurry towards Wonwoo's desk, that his face was tucked into some papers before realizing his superior and revere him, making a sign with his hand so that he could get closer to the table.

— I was able to make an earlier call with that phone number that we were talking about a while ago, through it I got a crucial clue that will get us to the culprits in less than three weeks. — The tone of the reddish was of pure excitement, so much so that his eyes even shone staring at the paperwork and archives. — The resident gave us some key information, two names, being more specific. 

The younger one fied some papers and then pulled a briefcase under the table, unwinding the string that closed it and taking a single sheet from there. There were handwritten words and a printed photo, which caused the investigator to chill from head to toe as he recognized the man in the image.

— This man was appointed as a neighborhood loan shark. He started out as a local legend, but from what is known several other residents sought him out for money. There is no confirmation but he may be responsible for the two deaths that occurred 10 years ago. His record is cleared, except for a minor traffic violation four years ago. And his name is Wen Junhui. — He raised the leaf, with a smiling outline in the corner of his mouth. — But it's not the only name and face we have. This one is even more peculiar. It's a... Celebrity.

The policeman re-tampered with the papers inside the briefcase with palpable happiness, but suddenly the older man found himself anxious. He didn't know exactly why, and if he could go back in time, he wouldn't have done that, but something inside him made him impulsively interrupt his subordinate. 

— I met him today. Wen Junhui. —  Seungcheol murmured, drawing the attention of the other who stopped moving the folder to face him with an expression difficult to decipher. — I was in  Kabukicho when he stopped me, he knows we're after him.

Wonwoo pursed his lips as he stared at his boss, his eyes running through every corner of his expression. He swallowed hard and lowered his gaze while holding the briefcase under the table again, feeling very strange. He decided not to ask what your boss was doing in an off-duty red light district, maybe it was too much meddling.

** […] **

— I'm going, take care of yourself. There's pizza left in the microwave. — Jihoon said goodbye, closing the door.

Still naked and with cum fouling his torso, Minghao inhaled his cigarette between his lips and sighed, feeling boredom reaching him. His best friend, his recurring fucking partner, was one of the few people who entertained him in his spare time. Seokmin was also one of those but lately the boy was always busy when the Chinese called him for any activity outside of working hours, so he was no longer an option.

Writing was not an option on that day off so relaxing, so the boy got up with difficulties and rubbed his eyes, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray and getting up to take a bath. He almost slipped on the wet floor and cursed softly, remembering why he hated it when Jihoon decided to bathe in his house after having sex with him. He turned on the warm water log and sighed, touching his head on the wall tiles while thinking about what to do.

He didn't have to wonder much to think about Scandale, more specifically Vernon. He certainly wasn't in love with the prostitute since the only thing he wanted in him was his body, but the boy was great company and apparently also liked him, since he always made sure to meet him first when he arrived at the brothel. He decided to pay a visit again, since it was still 9:00 at night. 

He wore simple clothes and a huge fur coat on top to disguise himself, putting on his mask and leaving the apartment — he decided to walk, as he was in no hurry to arrive. The path was pleasant and the icy breeze received the Chinese, who thanked him for having warmed up before leaving the house. 

The writer's quiet footsteps finally took him to the familiar street of  Kabukicho and soon he was already seeing that familiar sign flashing, almost as if inviting him in. He passed security and was greeted by a masked  Jeonghan , who smiled  playful as he remembered the episode with his friend. 

He found Vernon with his back to himself, sitting on one of the bar's stools. He approached and sat next to the boy, who got scared at first but soon opened a smile while recognizing his favorite client, offering him his drink. Minghao took off his mask and drank a sip of the colorful drink, making a small grimace and laughing along with the prostitute.

— Do you want something else to drink, or do you want to go straight upstairs? — Vernon asked, taking back his glass. — I think today I got the worst customer caveat of my life. 

— Finish your glass, I’ll wait. — The Chinese patted the boy on the back, giggling. The other laughed along, chugging down the rest of the liquid at once. — I'm going to try to redeem everyone, I promise.

** […] **

In fact Minghao redeemed the other clients, as soon Vernon was lying next to him almost unconscious as he faced the ceiling, still having violent spasms in bed while the other smoothed his face in an attempt to calm him down and help him recover. When the prostitute stopped turning his eyes, the redhead took the water bottle dropped to the ground to his lips. 

— It's the fourth time you've attended me, but I only know your name. — Minghao murmured among offerings, receiving a look from the other. — And maybe it's not even your real name. 

The prostitute began to laugh softly, being accompanied by the other. The boy finally ceased to laugh and then took a deep breath, shaking his head a few times before putting his arms back and leaning against them, staring at his client through the corner of his eye while biting his lower lip.

— We prostitutes are not authorized to give personal information to customers. — He said, causing the other to look away with shame. — But since you're a recurring customer and you've amused Jeonghan, I make an exception. One question for every orgasm I had today.

— So I'm entitled to three questions? — The writer asked, receiving a nod. — What's your full name?

— Hansol Vernon Chwe.

— How old are you?

— 27. 

The redhead seemed to hesitate before the last question.

— Why are you working here?

The question seemed to catch the prostitute off guard thanks to the look he threw at Minghao, who was already ready to apologize, but suddenly the boy gave him a small smile and took a cigarette under the mattress, taking the liberty of using the lighter from the writer to light it.

— Don't look at me with that face, it's not like you asked me something wrong. Everyone who knows a prostitute and is not a prostitute also has this doubt, it is normal. — He joked to unearth the mood, earning a smile from the other. — Well... I arrived in Japan five years ago. I failed the admission exams again and my parents disowned me, so I gathered my few remaining things and came by boat to Japan with only the clothes on my body, half a dozen things and half my dignity. I got here without a roof to live in, that's when I met Seungkwan. — A nostalgic look took over the eyes of the boy, who looked out the window. — He had just bought a whorehouse, but reformed half. In one half, women in situations of slavery or abuse could live free. In the other half, the boys prostituted themselves. That's how it works to this day. He took me in and I lived with the girls while we were dating, but after it was over he let me work with the other boys. 

— Wow... That's... Good? I think. — Minghao murmured, not knowing what to say. — Do you regret this life?

— Hey, if you want one more question, you have to make me come again. — Vernon provoked, weakly pushing the boy's shoulder. — Actually, no. I can't see myself having another life. Literally. If it wasn't for Seungkwan, I'd have been kidnapped by some other pimp with bad intentions and I'd be dead by this point. I'm very privileged to be alive leading the life I lead.

A comfortable silence filled the room and the two boys stared at the ceiling and the smoke rising toward him, each immersed in his own thoughts. Suddenly the prostitute seemed to remember something and got up, fitting the cigarette between the client's thin lips.

— Look, I heard there's a cop investigating the brothel and his name is Choi Seungcheol, something like that. — He said very quietly, knowing that the walls could listen. — He got caught trying to get in, me and the boys are watching but we still have no idea what he wants here. Maybe he'll recognize you or you'll be hurt if they're doing a search in here. 

— Is that right? Thanks for letting me know, I've really been needing to take care of myself. There's people on my tail. — Minghao murmured, smiling small.

The prostitute suddenly remembered the night that man showed up at the brothel, shooting up and talking to the officer. He thought about alerting the Chinese about it but something inside him whistled and he decided not to say anything, just watching the boy finish his cigarette before paying him and leaving.


	13. Thirteen.

After that tense moment at the police station,  Wonwoo finally showed the rest of the documents and explained the situation to his superior who was shocked to find out who the celebrity was, but was already planning a strategy in no time for the happiness of his co-workers.

Luck was in the favor of the cops, as they found a ticket sale in less than an hour of research. They were fortunate enough to get a ticket and then  Seungcheol was assigned to do the spy work by his boss the next day for being the most apt investigator to do so — this inflated his ego and resumed his energies, which were drained in the encounter with Junhui. 

The event would take place in a bookstore on Saturday afternoon, so the brunette would have the morning and night free to rest or do whatever else he wanted. He considered visiting Scandale because he wanted to see Joshua, but he had a bad feeling since he spoke too much when he talked to  Wonwoo at night. He preferred to wait for the things to settle, his frequency in Kabukicho could compromise not only the progress of the most important operation of his career but also the safety of the love of his life, which could become a target of the loan shark if he found out about his feelings.

In the end, the man ended up returning home and staying there for the rest of the day, immersed in his thoughts. Inside the warm water tub and with a can of beer in his hand,  Seungcheol was rambling about Joshua, Junhui, his police conduct and the celebrity he would investigate in 24 hours.

** […] **

Two weeks before locating his target, Junhui decided to explore Tokyo as if he were a simple tourist. He observed the landscapes, visited monuments, took pictures, practically blended into the crowd as if it were normal, as if he were a healthy person wanting to have fun. It was even funny and ironic to see citizens walking quietly alongside a cynical psychopath who has taken nearly a dozen lives. 

It was the charm of the Chinese: to seem normal and innocent before those who did not really know him, those who did not know his dirty and wicked secrets. Like a rat he sneaked in, he was eating by the eaves, until finally everything around him was infested with his diseases, rotting and perishing. Hardly anyone who let Wen Junhui into his life could survive his pestilent and violent influence. 

The boy wasn't proud, but he didn't care either — it wasn't for nothing that he didn't even feel something when his father died, he just got upset that he couldn't be freer and needed to work instead. That was the reason he took all the family's money and ran away from home when he learned that a group of former employees would come to his house to try to steal Mr. Wen's money, a visit that led to the death of Junhui's mother and younger brother. His detachment was natural and it was scary the way he seemed not to care or be fond of anyone. They even suspected that it was the firstborn Wen who killed his entire family, but luck was always on his side along with madness.

When he finally found Minghao, the boy turned his focus. He watched, followed him, and even set the dates when he would pursuit his target until the day he would finally bury a hot bullet in the  Chinese's soft brains; he was excited by the idea of finally having what the boy took from him because it wasn't about money, it was about pride. He knew that very well, or he would have ended the writer's miserable life the first time they saw each other. Like it or not, he was his nemesis. He wouldn't have much to do after that cycle was over, so he was debiting it as he could so he wouldn't end the fun sooner than it should.

On one of those days when he was thinking too much about what he shouldn't have, Junhui was walking to Minghao's residence for another visit, already feeling the adrenaline running through his vein so happy that he was just thinking about the fear the boy would feel when he saw his face. His so determined footsteps were diminishing and he found himself still in the middle of the street, his brown hair swaying in the wind. He bowed his head a little and frowned, sticking his hands in his overcoat pocket.  _ Does this need to be done now? _

He was facing his own dilemma when his restless eyes stopped at the peculiar figure passing by, flashy. He was out of the crowd with his blue hair and carefree features, demonstrating his sharp inattention to the surroundings — which was too dangerous for a prostitute. In his two hands were shopping bags, showing that he was probably off duty. 

A smile was opening on Junhui's chapped lips and his heart was filled with euphoria, his footsteps rushing back as he followed the boy without the slightest discretion. He recognized him as the prostitute who watched him in the window the day he met Seungcheol, he knew he was too singular to get confused. His head was filled with the plan that came into his mind and he had to cover his mouth to laugh softly while accompanying the other, at the height of madness.

Joshua pulled the set of keys out of his pocket and climbed the stairs of the small five-story building, stopping at the third. He unlocked the door carefully and turned to pick up the groceries, scaring himself when he found a slender figure holding them. He was a handsome, seemingly young boy, perhaps younger than you, who had a little smile. He gave him a very strange feeling, even made him uncomfortable, but at the same time he had an instinct to want to know his intentions, to listen to him, maybe welcome him if necessary. He looked extremely fragile and extremely dangerous at the same time.

— You're Joshua, right? I know you work at Scandale. — The Chinese asked, without undoing the smile on his face, with his cheeks reddened. �— I've never been able to get there, I have... Shame. Can't you get me now?

— I'm sorry, but I'm off today. You can look for me tomorrow, I'll be there to meet you. — Joshua smiled weirdly, shaking hands with his fist. He wanted to take the bags and run in, but he was frozen.

— Can't you make an exception? Please, I can pay you double what you'd get paid there. — He insisted.

The prostitute pondered a lot, looking at that stranger who seemed to be about to fall apart at any moment, but in the end eventually gave in. He imagined  Seungkwan and  Jeonghan berating him for breaking the rules of meeting off-hours and on top of that bringing a stranger who followed him home inside, but he was up for anything for the money — besides that the stranger was really handsome.

For hours, they both had sex. The neighbors upstairs put on headphones, the neighbors underneath hit the ceiling with the broom, but nothing stopped the wild and crude rite that happened on that old double bed. The wood stopped creaking when Joshua fell panting into the bed with blood dripping from his buttocks thanks to the whip the client used on him, closing his eyes for a moment. 

— You... You're really good at this. Why don't you come back tomorrow? — The prostitute murmured, smiling small.

He didn't get an answer, which made him a little suspicious. Suddenly he heard a metallic sound that shook him to the soul and then opened his eyes slowly, finding the menacing barrel of a gun pointed at his face. A single shot would blow his brains out and dirty his brand-new carpet, as well as leave  Jeonghan alone in the whorehouse and lure the police into Scandale cases and have to do investigations. He swallowed hard and slowly lifted his eyes to the Chinese man's face, giving a fright jump.

Completely transformed, that was it. The sweet, shy boy at the door had stayed there, leaving only a menacing man willing to do anything to get what he wanted. Junhui's gaze was diabolical and he smiled like before, but this time something made that smile look so mean he was capable of killing. His fingers, which were once inside Joshua, were now on the trigger of the pistol, playing with the prostitute's life.

— I have a proposal, how about listening to me? You have the day off today. — The boy's smile opened even more.

Joshua felt his eyes water a little; it was a trap, goddamn a trap. He already thought Junhui was smart for tricking him into his house, but he would feel even dumber when he knew that plan was made in less than 10 minutes out of sheer will to cause chaos. If evil were incarnated, he would be that Chinese full of hatred feelings towards everybody and love for despair. 

** […] **

— What an amazing audience, you are awesome! — Minghao said into the microphone, smiling.

It was a simple event in a shopping library, but enough to get the boy out of the melancholy he entered after another long week of writing and bad thoughts about Junhui and his mysterious visits. His condition was imperceptible to the outside eyes, but his happiness was now genuine and his fans could feel it in the affection with which he addressed everyone present.

His favorite events were signing, a little ironic for those who were tired of writing so much, because they felt it was in fact the moment of greatest connection with their fans. They were there not only for themselves but for the work, they were there to honor his work and his writing career, just as he was also there to thank the fans and make up for their reading efforts. It was a magical moment, one of the moments that made him move forward with his head held high.

He had been signing books for a long time and started doing this on automatic, delivering the same reactions and ready phrases after a certain time, until that particular fan arrived. Wearing a black cap and sweatshirt, he did not appear to be anyone so different and wasn’t even suspected by security guards, even that more than 5 paparazzi and stalkers were identified at the event, but it wasn't long before he revealed himself on his own.

Minghao was leaving a message in the copy that the man brought him, making a point of using the most beautiful and affectionate words he could find at that moment. He rested his pen on the table for a few seconds and opened a smile, raising his gaze to the fan.

— What name should I sign?

— Choi Seungcheol.

The redhead shuddered from head to toe and his smile trembled, as much as he had not come out of his face. The undercover cop raised his face a little and gave a discreet smile, taking out his pocket a small business card and leaving him on the autograph table, waiting for the writer to sign his book.

With trembling fingers, Minghao autographed the book. Seungcheol thanked him and left, leaving the event shortly thereafter. The autographs followed for the rest of the afternoon and the writer managed to keep up appearances, but a horrible feeling invaded him, the feeling that his peace was about to end completely.


	14. Fourteen.

Again, Minghao was ill. It wasn't hard for the boy to be physically harmed by the things that affected him emotionally, so there he was, feverish and tugged in the covers in the middle of Friday afternoon. He had made it clear that he wanted to be alone that day when he talked to Jihoon and  Seokmin by messages — he had not had the courage to tell them he was being investigated by the police — so he was lucky. Although he knew how to appreciate solitude, he did not like to be alone.

Maybe it was part of the his stubborn personality, but soon the Chinese was already willing to have fun. Surrounded the whole apartment on his bare feet, opened cabinets and refrigerators, lay on the wooden ground, tile and carpet. He looked at the ceiling, looked at the sky, looked at the buildings, looked at the cars. He counted how many pills were left in his old vials and how many could still ingest in the new vials without Seokmin noticing, but nothing seemed to feed that visceral hunger to venture that consumed him inside, second by second. 

As much as life was always giving hard lessons to the redhead, he never learned. His difficult origin and childhood had taught him many things, but apparently not even the worst moments and greatest humiliations took from within the Chinese the ingenuity he cultivated at his core, always hidden by the strong armor he needed to wear to endure in the midst he lived. Growing up to survive and not live, he couldn't take advantage and make mistakes on the right time. Now, he had to risk himself even though he had a lot to lose because he couldn't do it when he had nothing.

Like it or not, it's not like he had any choice at some point. He could count on the fingers of one hand the few happy moments he had when he was little, because soon his father met another woman, fell in love with her and ran away with all the money they had. The Xu's fragile structure couldn't resist the storm and quickly caved in, crushing everyone in the process.

Minghao's brother has always been a lost, rebellious case without cause. Even when they still had something to hold on to, he never seemed to settle for what little they had and always looked for more, too greedy to realize that he always tried to bite more than he could chew. It was no surprise when he began to commit minor offenses and dropped out of school, but deep down the redhead envied him for not keeping his hopes up even when he had nothing left to do. Maybe being realistic from the beginning would have served something. 

His mother was completely corrupted from the inside out, like dynamite exploding in a mine. It went through several phases of acceptance: unbelief came first in a violent outbreak, which destroyed much of the house and a large fraction of the family relationship that was still left. Then came the sadness, which made Minghao kneel on the floor and use his back to support his mother's weight hanging from the ceiling with a rope around her neck. Finally came the sorrow, which bittered the rest of the sweetness that was left in that woman and poisoned the little love she still had for her children.

None of them were to blame, but all were injured: Mrs. Xu saw in her children the reflection and remains of her ex-husband. The Chinese's brother was never satisfied with the crumbs and lived like a stray dog in the streets, searching for the gold carcass that would fill his belly. Minghao was looking for a chance to live, as he felt like hell every day. Suffocated. Surely he was the least expressive in that house, but he was not after anyone in the area of feeling; he felt, and very much.

Guilt has consumed Minghao every day since he fled to Japan, being the reason for his nightmares and sleepless nights for many years. It was an ill-digested idea, but at great cost the redhead managed to stick it in his head that he only did what his whole family wanted to do but did not have the courage. They probably would do the same if they had the chance, and the fact that they didn't come looking for him only showed that his escape was probably the fuse so they would finally realize they didn't want that kind of life.  _ That wasn't living. _

Already feeling nauseous, the boy decided to leave the house, the environment was making him even sicker and feverish. He put on a yellow sweatshirt and put on his pajama pants, putting on his shoes and leaving the apartment. He decided he wanted to walk around, maybe buy a coffee with Jihoon before the coffee shop closed, anything that involved getting out of that damn apartment.

He put his disposable mask on his face and clawed his hair with his fingers, closing his eyes as he felt the sweet breeze caress his face as soon as he stepped on the sidewalk. The weather was nice and the movement was low, practically the ideal time and place for the situation in which the boy was. He started walking slowly, not knowing exactly where he was going, but decided to let his feet take him. He was going to stop somewhere, for sure.

He realized that he was in real need of relaxing when he noticed the increasingly colorful signs, realizing that he was approaching the red light district more than he should. He turned around to go home, but a familiar figure made him freeze in place: time stopped and soon the redhead found himself on that dirt road, in the middle of the thicket. The same rustle scared him and the same scene unfolded.

Stood in front of him was Junhui, looking at some plants in a botanical shop. He looked like a simple citizen and it made Minghao's legs tremble to the point where he thought he was going to pee on his pants. The other didn't even seem to notice him and went into the shop, making the boy hide to observe him — ironic, perhaps. A few minutes passed and the brown came out, walking into the crowd. 

Minghao wasn't believing his feet, but they were following in the loan shark's footsteps. His head was screaming profanity, his heart was screaming for help, and he didn't even want to describe what was going on in his gut, but his whole body was reacting differently to what he wanted. I wanted to be calm and quiet, walking far away from the boy, but I was doing it exactly the other way around. If i could, if i could.

Even if his shoes made no noise on the floor, his steps were synchronized with others as a precaution. He had already seen two or three possible hiding places to use if the boy suddenly turned around and also had his phone unlocked ready to call the police, but no useful method seemed to work when it came to Wen Junhui. The redhead wanted to cry, because he knew that any war fought with him would be a lost cause from the beginning.

Suddenly the older Chinese arrived in an apartment, very luxurious by the way, and unlocked the gate. Hiding in a hurry behind a phone booth, Xu's reflection was throwing a median stone in the direction of the elder — the noise alarmed him and made him turn around to fetch the sound source, but luckily he gave up and the stone managed to hold the electronic gate, which did not close. Waiting a few seconds to ensure safety, the redhead entered right behind.

He stopped in front of the elevator and stared at him in doubt, biting his lower lip hard: the elevator was rising. He didn't hear anyone on the stairs and even dared to peek, finding no one upstairs when he looked up there, so he ran back into the lobby. He saw the elevator parked on the tenth floor and pressed the button, calling the elevator at the same time. As the numbers dwindled, his nervousness increased.

The metal doors opened and the elevator welcomed Minghao with its golden and red interior, almost a walking allegory. The Chinese came in and rubbed his sweaty palms in his pants, pressing the tenth floor button, chilling all over as he felt the button still warm, as if the last person who used it had left his finger there the entire path  _ on purpose. _

He stared at the glass and saw his dark circles, his sweat, his lips hurt and dry. He saw his tousled hair, saw the lack of shine in his gaze, saw his every imperfection and realized it was over. Whatever Junhui wanted from him he had already managed to catch a long time ago, was just having fun with what's left and wasn't going to stop until there was nothing left.

The elevator box took a leap and the boy's hands went straight to the bars on the sides, squeezing them tightly as he looked at the small visor. Tenth floor. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, swiping his hands on his face one last time before scratching his throat and waiting for the doors to open.

He definitely didn't expect to step down in the hallway and find Junhui sitting on one of the doors with one hand at the stop and the other at the waist, with a smile so big that he looked like the Cheshire Cat. He felt his soul coming out of his body very slowly as he stared at the other Chinese, motionless. His sweat was cold, his heart was cold, his body was cold, he had practically died there.  _ Each piece of him died a little when the other smiled. _

— I already knew you were following me. I could tell when you just stood there with a pot face, you could see it from inside the store. — The eldest provoked, laughing low. — I brought you here because I wanted to see how far you were willing to go, and I see you haven't changed a thing. Always wanting to know more than you should, Xu Minghao. — He denied with his head, clicking his tongue in the sky of his mouth. — But since you've come all this way, why don't you come in?

Entering the loan shark's condo was not in Minghao's initial plans, nor did he enter his apartment. He knew that he could have taken him to an alley and ended his life, or even a group of guys who would dispatch his body to five different countries, but he also knew that he certainly had no good plans if he had brought him right outside his residence when they were both being sought by the police.

— Fuck, don't you get tired of pissing me off?!

The brown's burst frightened the writer, who barely had time to react when he had his wrist grabbed and was pulled in the direction of the apartment. He was thrown to the ground with violence and hit his ribs on a coffee table, moaning loudly in pain, but soon felt the icy barrel of Junhui's pistol on his forehead and opened his eyes, seeing Junhui's fulminant eyes staring at his. He was dead.

The tears began to descend uncontrollably one after another and soon the redhead's fragile body trembled through the sobs, causing the gun to rub on his forehead in an uncomfortable manner.  _ He was terrified. _ He's always been afraid of his eldest, but he's never been more terrifying than he is now. It was as if he had grown and matured, all the evil potential within him evolving and becoming a very dangerous element without a stop button. He's made him feel a lot of fears, but he's never had feared the death.

— Why are you doing this to me? — Minghao asked, closing his eyes hard and letting thick tears descend down his face. — Damn, why don't you let me pay what I owe and leave me alone? I'm rich, I can give you the money right now!

— Shut up! Now we have interest. — Junhui growled, containing a smile. Something in his heart was stirred to see those tears of despair, but an unknown sensation and even better than the delight arose especially for being the redhead there, on his knees, begging for his life. — I had to wait ten years, you owe me much more now than before. 

Already waiting for a shot, the redhead closed his eyes, but nothing happened. The pressure from the barrel on his forehead fell apart and he soon heard the gun being thrown away, not believing to see the pistol dropped across the room. The brownish came out in the direction of what appeared to be the kitchen and left Xu alone, still sobbing and his face wet with tears, with a gun apparently loaded at his disposal.  _ Wen Junhui was crazy. _

In the minutes when the eldest was away, the lower one did not dare to move a muscle that was, even if he felt a bruise forming in his rib and that he was already cramped by the bad position in which he fell. He had the perfect chance to run or arm himself against him, but he was so terrified that he continued to sit in shock, staring at the white carpet and probably imported from the Chinese.

Junhui returned after a while and sat on the couch, placing two mugs on the glass table on which he threw the boy. Minghao stared at the cold chocolate milk in the container and then turned his gaze to the loan shark, who raised an eyebrow and hit the vacant space of the furniture; without choice, the younger one sat down. 

— Drink. — He said, in a tone too friendly to be an order but too dubious when it came to Wen Junhui. Again the redhead had no choice and did what he was asked,  tooking a single sip for fear of being poisoned. — How did you get here, eh? You were a poor little boy, no desire to live, miserable. You had nothing to fight for. Now you’re a famous writer, full of money and contacts. I barely recognized you when I saw you on TV. 

Just as he expected the older man to be curious about how he used the money stolen from him, he also did not expect such a  _ friendly tone _ , almost as if the loan shark was genuinely interested in the kind of life he led during those 10 years. Anyway, he was the only person he could honestly vent about his life story, so he wasn't going to waste the one chance he had of taking all that weight off his shoulders.

— Well... I gathered my -- yours - my savings and took a ferry straight to Japan. Then a train to Tokyo. I was able to find a pension to stay and learned the basics of Japanese while working there, then I was admitted to a faculty of Letters when I finished my studies. — He said, taking another sip of the surprisingly delicious chocolate. — I graduated and then managed to rent an apartment of my own. I published my works on the Internet until the day I published a work on Amazon and... I got rich. Since then, I've managed to find a publisher that publishes my books and that's how I got here. 

— Of all my clients you were the smartest. The others are all dead. Junhui praised her sarcastically, drinking her chocolate milk too. — What about your mother? 

The question caused Minghao to freeze, almost as if he had paused. His fingers tightened against the icy crockery and he needed to take another long sip of chocolate to bring down the cake that formed in his throat suddenly, looking around the older man's chic apartment while searching for the right words to use.

— I don't know,  i don't know. I sent a little quantity money 7 years ago along with a letter of apology, but I was never answered. — He murmured, a little embarrassed. — Maybe they're gone. I think my brother was arrested and my mother left the country. I... — He parted his lips, laughing without humor. — I don't care. 

— I didn't know that cold side of you. By the way, you showed me a lot of new sides. I didn't know you liked going to the whorehouse and do drugs. — The youngest has wide his eyes. — Don't make that face, I know everything. I've been planning for a long time, which is why I'm not going to kill you now. Well, even if I wanted to, I have some unforeseen... That cop, Choi Seungcheol.

The fun was clear in the criminal's voice, but so was hate. Minghao stuck his hand in his pants pocket and took the crumpled paper at the bottom of it, leaving it in Junhui's field of view. The boy took the paper and unfolded it, opening a satisfied smile when analyzing the content written on it.

— He came to me and gave me this, he must know something. — The redhead said, playing with his fingers. — It's no use to me, but maybe I can be useful to you.

— Do you know what? I'm starting to like you. — Junhui said, rising from the couch.

Minghao didn't know what to do or say, just finished his chocolate.


	15. Fifteen.

Ever since he was a kid,  Wonwoo has never felt the urge to question people. His mind always went beyond and he was always pondering why things happened, about fate, chance, his curiosity was infinite, but he seemed to lose all his desire for knowledge when it came to individuals. Maybe it was his retracted personality, his shy manner, but he never wanted to know. He accepted absurd things, ignored obvious signs, pretended to be blind to the clearest indications, all so he would never get into trouble. His omission has already angered many, but he never gave in.

His creation was very simple; raised in a nuclear family, he was always worshipped thanks to his parents, a teacher and an analyst. His younger brother was always more innocent and careless, which clearly influenced the fates of both when the youngest became a painter and the firstborn followed the police branch. The creation was the same, but it was frightening the huge personality difference between the Jeon’s. If it wasn't for the looks, no one could say they were blood brothers. 

This has always influenced the redhead in their friendships, social bonds, and even loving relationships — his indifference to people and feelings has always made the boy difficult to love and live with. From the outside it was strange to see a boy with such a promising future always alone and silent, but it was easy to figure out why when living with him for a short time. 

That's precisely why the officer felt so bothered by that primitive, almost visceral desire, taking over himself as a contagious disease, killing his neurons, rotting his tissues, devouring his flesh. He did not know what to do, but was extremely curious about the conduct of his superior,  _ Choi  _ _ Seungcheol _ _. _

Wonwoo never felt envy of his superior. Quite the contrary, he always admired the elder since his early days in the corporation and even saw him as a father figure, despite the slightest age difference. He've known him for years, but at the same time the older one seemed like a complete unknown and it was disturbing when it came to someone as outgoing as the other.

One of the advantages of being so withdrawn was being a good observer, and it didn't take long for the younger one to realize the strange behavior and secretly suspect his superior. Always seeming to be hiding something, visiting the red light district off duty, being out of the street late, running away from professional affairs, all that was bubbling in a boy's mind discovering the feeling of curiosity. He wanted to know.  _ He _ __ _ had to. _

He had to write down on a piece of paper what he wanted to ask Choi for not knowing how to use his words well, so little Jeon spoke. He spent a lot of time walking in the bathroom as he prepared to go to the police station and even kept banging his head against the wall, but he knew that his irrelevant feelings had overcome rationality and that he could not sleep peacefully until he killed curiosity.

He spent hours waiting, sitting at his desk. His tired eyes now just passed lazily through the letters in the archives, not even connecting the words to form sentences, and his fingers pattered on the table, dragging his nails in the wood until small splinters joined the dirt the boy had in the phalanx. You couldn't even go to the trouble of looking at the clock anymore, knowing that the hands weren't in your favor that day.

— Good afternoon. — He wide his eyes, looking at the door.

A chill ran through his body as he saw the police investigator passing him and into his office, closing the door. He swallowed in hard and shook his hands in his fist, sighing before getting up and walking in slow steps along the path the other made. His hand rose toward the doorknob and fluttered, but soon his long fingers hooked there and opened the door.

— Wonwoo? — The informality was like a punch in the stomach of the officer, who felt like vomiting. — What brings you here?

The reddish crisped his lips and swallowed in — he felt dirty. He did not have the courage to lift his eyes, but he took a deep breath one last time and shook his hands in his fist, sticking his teeth into the tender flesh of his lower lip. The taste of blood invaded his mouth and he sat his glasses with his fingertip, swallowing hard again. 

— What are you hiding from me, Choi  Seungcheol ? — His thick voice swelled in the room, cutting through the silence.

Seungcheol , who was lowered stirring in some papers, suddenly stopped. He stood still. The office plunged into silence, only the heavy breaths being heard. Quietly the elder raised his brown eyes and found  Wonwoo's dark eyes almost piercing his skull behind his glasses. It was ridiculous, but he  _ was feeling intimidated _ by a younger, lower-ranking boy than his.

— What kind of ridiculous question is that, Wonwoo? — The elder asked in a rude tone, frowning. Rudeness was the best weapon to mask nervousness. — And it's Officer Choi. I'm your superior, whether it's here or in Korea. 

— Who are you visiting in Kabukicho? — Asked again, disarming the other. — I may just be a simple cop, but I'm not stupid. You constantly visit a red district neighborhood and have tried to obstruct a police investigation twice. 

— I don't like your tone, Jeon Wonwoo. — Seungcheol warned. 

— Your listening was on. 

The brunette froze, needing a few minutes to process the phrase said before widening his eyes, staring at the reddish, this sporting a cold and even debauched expression. The poison flowed from the corner of his mouth, but he seemed extremely calm as he cornered his superior.

— I've heard it all. You think I don't know you've been visiting a whorehouse? —  Wonwoo said, in a cold tone he had never used before, and began to walk toward his boss's desk. He leaned his hand on the icy wood and fell down, coming face to face with the elder. — You can tell me now, or you're going to have to leave your toy aside to explain yourself to the deputy for the rest of your stay here. 

Seungcheol stood up in a rush and then closed one of his fists, hitting  Wonwoo's cheek. The tall boy flew to the ground and took with him a pile of papers, being partially crushed. Like a bull, the brunette marched toward the fallen boy and mounted on his torso, beginning to punch his face repeatedly — the reddish barely had a chance to defend himself, trying pointlessly to protect his face with his arms.

The office door opened and soon several officers entered to break up the fight, managing to separate the two with much efforts. Jeon spat two teeth on the floor and closed his eyes as Choi was dragged out of the room by the deputy, closing his eyes for a moment while trying to organize his thoughts — it all hurt.

But even bleeding, full of bruises and cuts,  Wonwoo managed to smile. 

** […] **

Three days of suspension was Seungcheol's punishment. The others knew that a low-ranking police officer would have been exonerated or even detained, but the privileges of being at the top showed up all the time. Many were annoyed, but none there were surprised. 

Wonwoo had his injuries taken care of and fortunately did not need medical attention, but gained three days of rest to take care of his injuries at home. Even though he knew he was free, he needed to cool down, so he decided to walk the streets of Shinjuku because he didn't have much to do on the day off. He wasn't used to resting anymore.

He swore to have seen Seungcheol's car heading towards Kabukicho on his way out, but perhaps he was thinking too much about the incident and, deep down, implying too much with his superior. He was too exhausted to read and too lazy to exercise, so he ended up opting for a good old coffee.

Seeing the small plate of the cat-shaped establishment cheered him up, as there were two of the things the boy liked the most — except for books, but the manager of the  neko café was thinking of changing that. He pushed the door and heard the bell tinkling, but realized that the local employee was too busy dealing with a customer.

— Look, I told you. I'm not going to give you any numbers, or help you with that. You just hurt him, your breakup was a deliverance. — He was startled by the boy's informal way of speaking, imagining that the two of them knew each other outside. — Look, just get out of here before I decide to call the police. You're bothering me. And if you keep bothering me, I'm going to  punch you.

Defeated, the customer left while being watched by a  Wonwoo in shock. The employee styled his blonde hair and the tiara that adorned them, undoing his serious and troubled expression to force an ungenuine smile as he directed his attention to the new customer on the spot.

— Welcome to Cat Cafe Calico Shinjuku, it's an  _ immense  _ _ prrrreasure _ to serve you.

When he left the café with two cups of hot coffee and a bag of brownies, the boy wasn't believing it. He wanted to beat himself, not being able to understand why his impulses were so strong that particular day, but his legs were automatically walking to the stranger sitting on a bench, his face buried between his hands.

As he sat next to the boy, he got scared. A few strands of his brown hair fell on his eyebrows and thick tears descended from his reddish eyes, cascading down his cheeks. He laughed blandly and dried his eyes with his coat sleeve, staring at the floor. 

— It's for you. I hope you like coffee. —  Wonwoo murmured, extending one of the cups, totally shy.

The boy grabbed the coffee and smiled shyly, taking a sip. The officer imitated him and drank a sip of his own coffee, offering one of the brownies in the pack to the unknown next to him. In silence, the two shared their sweets and sorrows.

** […] **

One of the unawake bodies seemed to move, but it was just wind moving his coat. Could still hear some moans of pain, but the pile of five passed-out men made no movement, hidden in the alley. If anyone saw them, they'd probably pass straight, because they'd know whose authorship that work was.

Sitting in a squatting position a few feet away was Soonyoung, his nose dripping whitish blood. In his hand there was a pile of money and he passed the notes from one palm to another while muttering very quietly, counting the amount that was there. His eyes shone with greed, but he was one of the few men in the world who could sustain that feeling without succumbing to it. 

Suddenly his cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he rolled his eyes, holding the money in the bar of his pants as he stood up and sat on the pole, answering the call without the slightest interest. His eyes gained a different glow and a small smile grew genuinely on his lips until his eyelids almost closed with the elevation on his cheeks, indicating his happiness.

— I'll be there, kitty. Wait for me. — He said, disconnecting the call.

The boy began to laugh with happiness and gathered his things, walking down the dark street while whistling with such happiness. While he was on his way to his destination, he came across one of the prostitutes,  _ his name was Vernon? _ , still at Scandale's door. He said nothing or did nothing, just followed the dealer with his eyes until his bouncy figure disappeared at the end of the street.


	16. Sixteen.

As always, Minghao couldn't appreciate his solitude. He could describe himself as someone completely stupid, because he hated it when he was overwhelmed with people around him but hated at the same intensity to be alone, drowned in the limbo of solitude that involved him in the few moments when he was not with the people he valued around.

It was ironic and even a little chilly the way that the Chinese's independence from not needing anyone around was replaced by the constant need for attention and companionship after he ran away from home and met new people. He was like a  thirsty frog sitting on the edge of a river with the most fresh water, after spending his whole life staring at a simple puddle with a crocodile inside it.

Drinking from the divine chalice made him too thirsty, at a suffocating point, so soon the boy found himself wearing his sweater while cursing softly, cursing himself for being so unbearable and dependent. No wonder he had so few friendships even though he had multiple contacts and so much prestige, which was too unusual for a millionaire guy.

While he were getting ready, he tried to call Seokmin, but this one didn't even answer. Jihoon had told him that the boss was on his tail because of his escapades, so it wasn't a good idea to bother him. He even thought of Junhui, but in addition to still being afraid of the boy and knowing that he wanted to kill him, he knew the risks that the proximity between them could cause thanks to the policeman on the tail of both.

Properly dressed and warm, Minghao went down to the garage and got into his  _ Jaguar F-Type Roadster _ unhurriedly, putting the key in the ignition. The truth is that the Chinese knew how to drive and had his own car, but because of the fans and paparazzi decided not to use it most of the time. Driving ended up being a therapeutic treat, since it was one of the few things the boy could do on his own, without having to consult or depend on anyone.

With the help of the car's GPS, the car soon left the building and was transiting the streets with the roof closed. The writer's thin fingers pattered the steering wheel over and over and his lips muttered very softly the melody coming out of the radio, causing him to shake his head subtly in the rhythm of the music. It was a good day, he knew it. 

The car stopped in front of the automatic gate of one of the neighborhood's several condominiums and soon entered the parking lot, causing the boy to get out of the vehicle and lock him up. He put his hands in his pocket and was whistling calmly to the elevator, squeezing on the already known floor and leaning on the glass while waiting for the metal box to stop on the floor.

The pleasant sound of the bell indicated that the elevator had stopped and the doors opened, giving passage for the Chinese to walk down the hall and stop in front of one of the doors. His fingers lifted the carpet and pulled a key off the floor, cliché but sure. Still whistling Minghao opened the door, but his whistle died on his lips as he came across the scenery in the room.

Face down, his wrists cuffed and his nose bleeding was  Soonyoung , completely naked and his eyes turned almost into his orbits. Remnants of a cocaine career were scattered behind his back, hinting at a perverse practice. Above him was  Seokmin , with white powder on his nose and one hand resting on the arm of the couch, while the other wore the backing cuff. He was buried to the balls inside the drug dealer's ass, which was marked by spanking and an object that the writer did not identify — and did not want. 

The secretary shone his eyes and fell silently when he found his friend still at the door, frozen, receiving a sly grumbling from the brunette who did not understand the reason for the stop. Soon, his watery eyes focused on the quiet figure at the door stop and also widened, his lips opening to say something but letting only air out. The three were staring at each other, with the couple still engaged.

— I... I'm just going to pretend that never happened. I'll be back later. — Minghao murmured, closing the door slowly and locking it.

Still embarrassed and definitely wanting to forget that scene, despite being glad his friends are evolving the relationship, the boy just came home planning to marathon some series and make a new recipe while drinking wine. He'd have to learn to live with himself at some point, so maybe that was the time.

When he parked the car, however, he realized that maybe that wasn't his day, because there was Kim Mingyu sitting in front of the ground-floor elevator, almost as if he were waiting for him. It was as if he always knew where he was, capturing his footsteps.

Minghao's good mood ended down the drain and a frown adorned his face as he walked towards the brownish, who opened a dull smile when he noticed him. He seemed to know the unhappiness his ex felt about seeing him there, but he clearly had no pride or shame as he always came back even though he was swarmed every time.

— What do you want? — It was the first thing he said to the boy, dry as a desert.

— Don't do it to me, Hao, I miss you so much. — The elder said, sighing. He just didn't know how to face it. — Can't you at least give me a single chance? We broke up a long time ago, didn't this time mature us enough to have a civilized conversation?

— I leave everything I've learned to put aside when it comes to you. — Minghao retorted and pressed the elevator button, but his former partner's slender body stopped in front of him. — What's your problem?

— My problem is you, Minghao. You're my problem.

It was sudden, but soon the doors opened and Mingyu reversed positions, pushing Minghao with everything against the elevator’s glass and gluing their lips urgently, blindly groping the floor of his ex's apartment. The doors closed, as did the Chinese diverse thoughts in his head.

His first will was to aim a cross-punch well given to the chin of his cheeky ex-boyfriend, so that he would bite his tongue and bleed to death. He thought about pushing him and screaming for help. He thought about crying. He've thought of a lot of things. But his last thought, the last of the day, was to let it roll.

The two hungrily kissed and the writer unlocked the door of the apartment at the same time that one of the older man's large hands broke into his pants and smoothed his growing erection over his underwear, tearing out a groan. Properly accommodated on the couch, with the tallest sitting on the Lap of the Chinese, it just happened. Whether they'd regret it or not, they wouldn't know until the next day.

** […] **

The Lees were a rich family since ever. A marriage arranged for the interest of companies paid off and soon three children were born: Lee Gun, Lee Byun and Lee Chan. Lee Gun, the youngest, took the golden age of his parents and was always spoiled from his early days of life to his teenage years. Lee Byun had fewer privileges than the youngest, but definitely had a comfortable passage from childhood to adulthood. The one who suffered the most was Lee Chan, the oldest.

Born in an unplanned way, the boy really was the training of humanity of his parents, it was the seed that made a little feelings bloom in those hollow shells, filled only with money. He looked at his brothers and envied them, because their parents only were good to them after being terrible to him. Only his pillow and God knew how many tears he shed every day, wishing he didn't live in that family.

It's not like his parents were tyrants, but they were far from good parents. They loved him and gave him everything, but the extreme pressure on the boy was so heavy that no good act would make up for all the hell the boy had to go through. Bouts of anxiety, self-medication, scratched arms and legs, smoked cigarettes, Lee Chan fell into delinquency.

When he closed his eyes and was in complete silence, he could hear his parents yelling at him or arguing in the office about how insufficient he was to take over the family business. He could hear them saying how good the others were, how good they were, how competent they were. Being first, at the top, was almost a fetish. If he was a depraved, he'd masturbate every night thinking about winning.

Chan's once sweet and gentle personality was corrupted and filled until it leaked with rot and bitterness. He longed for what was of others, was jealous, tried to bring down those above him and use those who were down the stairs for success. Getting in the boy's way was suicide, because he was willing to go far to get what he wanted. 

And the most foolish of all who crossed Lee Chan's path was Xu Minghao. The two became writers at the same time, but unlike the Chinese the boy capped a series of hits one after the other, already achieving his bestsellers in less than 3 years of career. A reading prodigy, being considered until then the youngest writer to break record copy sales. His career was at the top, he had contracts, sponsorships, his life was perfect.

Until that boy arrived. He came out of nowhere and took over everything like a virus, achieving feats that the youngest had never come close to achieving even having such a big name in the literary industry. The culmination of the absurdity was when he got a film adaptation, which definitely created a new elite of writers of which Lee Chan was not part.

It made him angry enough to make him lose his mind. He then decided that he would take care of Minghao himself and devoted his full time to seeking to learn more about the  Chinese's life. From where he came from, what he did, if he had done anything wrong, anything would serve as long as he could watch from the tip of the iceberg the Titanic of his sinking rival. 

It was when he met Mingyu that things started to work out. Bumped into the boy after a press entourage while he was doing a paparazzi work, but managed to find out he was after his ex-boyfriend when he pressured him and threatened to call security. He swore he could have an orgasm when he heard Minghao's name roll from that desperate guy's lips.

He knew he was paying too much on a mediocre paparazzi, but using a person who knew the Chinese to defeat him seemed even better than simply calling anyone to do the job. He was betting all his chips on Kim, and he had a moral obligation not to let him down.

He was obsessed, he was sure. He no longer slept or fed properly, ignored his parents' calls and fan messages, spent days at home watching all the pictures of Minghao glued to the walls and smiled like a maniac, because he knew he would soon be watching the fall of that rising empire on the merits of having him knocked down himself.


	17. Seventeen.

Seungcheol couldn't say why, but he was embarrassed to see Joshua. He had already visited him on the day of the suspension, but that particular day his heart was off beat just by thinking of seeing and touching the boy's body, looking into his eyes, making him delight himself with him. 

He knew it was ridiculous to be in love with a prostitute and he would never have done if he knew about the future, but he felt like the happiest man in the world every time he had the boy in his arms, even though five other guys had been just as lucky that day and he had to leave half an hour after the sex. He didn't care about anything anymore, he just wanted to see the reason why he had his sleepless nights and silly smiles.

He stopped his car in  Kabukicho Street and walked with a discreet smile on his face to  Scandale's line, not even needing to report to the security guard, who released him on time to enter. He also didn't have to spin much to find Joshua, who was sitting in the bar with a glass of booze in his hand.

This time he wore a white silk-sleeved blouse and black shorts, which tightened his thighs. A gold necklace wrapped around her neck and her reddish lips were shiny because of the colored liquid, giving her an even more attractive and graceful look. The cop could stay for hours just admiring him, like an arts curator watching a beautiful painting.

Suddenly the look of the bluish fastened to his and he smiled like an angel, walking towards him. It was always like this, everything around blurted and Jisoo shone alone, living up to his unique rank in the heart of Choi Seungcheol. Even though he used to have the boy with him several times, the brunette always felt like it was the first time lying down with the American.

— Cheol, you've come to see me! —The tone of the prostitute was cute and excited as he wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders of the elder. — Let's go upstairs, I miss you so much.

— Me too, Shua. — The elder took one of his hands to one of the boy's firm  asscheeks and gave a strong grip, sticking his lips to his lobe. — You have no idea how much. — He murmured, smiling as he realized the other was chilling.

It wasn't long before they both climbed into one of the rooms and madly as they always did, with Seungcheol taking all the feelings he had in the prostitute and Joshua taking advantage of the only customer who made him feel genuine pleasure. The customers next door always suffered when they were both together, because no one was a match for the sexual performance of those two. 

For almost three hours straight, Joshua Hong belonged to Choi  Seungcheol . His innocent looks, his groans, his entreaties, his vows were only of the brunette and no one else. The bluish was fragile beneath him and completely delivered, willing to do everything he could to please him, and it messed so much with the other's head that he felt he could explode every time the eyes met.

That's when Choi realized he wasn't happy to have him for a few hours and share it with countless others every day. He did not want the American to have sex with others, promising himself to others, giving himself to others; Wanted the boy to himself.

— Joshua, I'm in love with you. — He murmured softly, having the boy laid on his chest.

He felt exactly the moment the bluish body stiffened, almost as if he had become a statue. Using his supporting hand he stood up and stared at the policeman, who did not like his facial expression: wide-eyed and frowning, the prostitute stared at him as his mouth writhed. He hadn't said anything, but it was clear. Finally the prostitute sighed and faced the elder with pity.

— I'm sorry, Cheol. I... I'm a prostitute, that's my livelihood. — He murmured, already anticipating what the other would say. — And I can't leave Scandale like this. They're my family. I was deported and here it became my home, I saw this place grow. I'm never leaving here until I die. And... I'm happy like this.

Seungcheol crisped his lips and nodded, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat and lowering his head. His large eyelashes managed to hold the few tears that popped into his eyes, making the scene less humiliating and painful. Suddenly the younger's hand smoothed his face and lifted him up, making the two face each other.

— Well, I can't give you my heart... — Joshua continued, clicking his tongue. — But I can assure you that you will be my priority whenever you are here. I'll drop any client to meet you. I run every time you call me. In here, I'm yours.

The words ripped a smile from the policeman and soon he stole a peck from the prostitute, warning that he needed to go but that he would soon return. Choi dressed and waved one last time, leaving and leaving the bluish alone. The prostitute's gentle expression fell apart and he took a cigarette under the mattress, lighting it on his lips and throwing himself on the bed, sighing.

As a haunting,  Jeonghan sneaked past the curtains and crossed his arms as he watched his best friend lie on the bed with his eyes closed as the smoke rose, filling the environment. Jisoo opened one of his eyes and took a fright, almost swallowing his cigarette when he saw the brunette still with the moonlight illuminating him in a frightening way.

— Fuck, I thought it was... 

— What are you doing with this guy, Jisoo? — He was quick to ask, frowning while taking the cigarette from the other and erased it with his fingertips, throwing the filter on the floor. — It's already the third service you do with him and cut me out, you always make me follow you in all the programs that you do and participate in mine but now you want to meet the police man alone, you who are afraid to be alone with customers. What's up with you? I thought we were best friends.

Joshua advanced towards  Jeonghan and placed him on the wall, plucking a choked groan from the elder. One of the stiff hands was held around the neck of the boy and the other covered his mouth, causing the man to squint and struggle trying to let go to breathe.

— Why do you have to keep your fucking mouth open, eh? You seem to forget that the walls here have ears! — He spoke between teeth, causing the other to stop struggling and roll his eyes. The American let him go when he realized he was going to cooperate. — That man who appeared here is Wen Junhui. He ambushed me and made me collaborate with him, he wants to ambush Seungcheol.

— Wow, I didn't think you had the guts to fool a poor public servant in love. —  Jeonghan mocked, receiving a turn of his eyes in response. — Well... I think you know what you're doing. Seungkwan better not know that, or you're fucked and you know it. 

— I know, he doesn't want the brothel involved with the problems of the street. — Joshua repeated the line he always heard. — Relax, I've got it under control. What's anyone going to get by killing a simple prostitute like me?

— I don't know, but a lot of people would lose a lot with it.

** […] **

Despite knowing how to deal with greed, Soonyoung definitely could not measure and control his ignorance. Power never rose above his head, but it made him think he was above other heads out there. 

A student-problem since forever, Hoshi's parents' solution was to send the boy to college with his relatives in Japan. It didn't do much good since there he discovered that he could sell LSD to his classmates and beyond that, which he perfected over five years until he established his drug spot in  Kabukicho and began his expansion in the rest of the country, China and South Korea. He became a king of drugs, alone achieving what many tried in huge flocks, with hundreds, but never succeeded. He was second to none.

Being a drug dealer gave him a lot of power. He had partnerships in crime, could make extra money protecting areas, secretly negotiate with the police to sell his drugs and escape from prison, and could enjoy his money as much as he wanted. It wasn't an easy life, but surely the compensation was worth every risk you take.

The problem of being so well paid and prestigious by everyone — he was more feared than respected, though not living up to his fame after gaining intimacy — was that the idea of being invincible stuck in Soonyoung's head like gum in his hair. As much as it was obvious that virtually no one would mess with him, yet someone else would at some point.

Late at night, there was almost no movement. He had already beaten his goal of the day, visited Dokyeom and resolved some daily misunderstandings, so it was time to return to his home, more like a bunker thanks to the various enemies and competitors the boy accumulated throughout his criminal journey. His hands were tucked into his coat pockets and he whistled as usual, shaking his head from side to side as he walked carefree.

It was so suddenly that he wouldn't even have time to draw a gun if he were a rival or a cop, but luckily he was just one of the prostitutes, the same one who watched him that day.  He've heard his name and seen him several times, but he never imagined he'd have any interest on him.

— What is your relationship with Minghao? — The boy asked.

— What a strange question. Don't you have any clients to answer? I want to go home. — The drug dealer tried to scare the prostitute, who just laughed.

A snare knocked over the brunette and soon the lower one was on top, taking out of his pocket a pocketknife and positioning it on one of the drug dealer's thighs. Soonyoung did not understand the boy's intention, but still became tense when he felt the blade pressing the fabric of his jeans.

— If I cut your femoral artery, you're going to bleed like a pig and you're going to die. No one's going to call an ambulance at dawn in a red light district and everyone around here wants you dead, so don't even count on help. — Vernon murmured, snarling his eyes. — What is your relationship with Minghao? — He repeated the question very slowly.

— Relax, kitty. What kind of training is  Seungkwan giving you? —  Soonyoung scolded, sighing. — I dated his best friend for a while, but then he broke up with me because he almost got arrested. After that I stayed away from him, but now I'm fucking his other best friend and he buys drugs with me. That's it, that's all.

Vernon didn't seem too convinced, but the pressure of the pocketknife subsided and soon he kept the gun back in place and sighed, straightening his wires. He came out of the drug dealer and crossed his arms, staring at him.

— If I know you told him that, I'll corner you in an alley, shove the knife down your throat and let your body for the dogs to eat. — He threatened, turning his back.

Soonyoung watched the prostitute walk across the street and look at him one last time with a look between contempt and relief, entering the brothel where he lived and worked. He ended up laughing at himself and stood up, dusting off his pants before walking again while thinking about how crazy those surrounding figures were.


	18. Eighteen.

A few days passed and the roll between Soonyoung and Seokmin finally became known to Minghao, who wanted to choke the dealer for getting involved with another of his friends within the law, but in the end supported both and their respective happinesses. Even though he was a criminal, it was clear how much the elder was in love with Lee. 

Their first contact was the first time the writer used drugs, so they didn't even address each other. Their second meeting was in the whorehouse and managed to be even more chaotic, but it was that same day that they exchanged numbers and started talking for messages.

In the end, the brunette wasn't all evil. He ended up approaching the boy quickly and soon the two were glued like meat and nail, including the brown even wanted to try marijuana with the dealer despite his insistence not to do so. There was no surprise when the two ended up kissing in one of the alleys one of the early hours where the secretary went to keep the other company, and soon began to have a small thing. It was recent, but they were both always together, sharing everything they knew with each other and spending all the free time they had together.

That was the reason  Seokmin was walking in quick steps through the parking lot of his boss's apartment with fire coming out of his eyes, having a  hurried and completely sorry  Soonyoung trying to reach him with strides.

— Seok, please wait! — He cried in vain, for the other did not stop walking. — Shit, I shouldn't have opened my mouth.

— Yes, you should! He's getting involved with a prostitute and going to those bands while there's a cop in the area?! He's crazy! — The boy was outraged, knocking his foot to the ground restlessly as the elevator did not arrive. — Minghao will see. 

Suddenly the youngest ran out and went towards the stairs, but when the dealer made mention of following him, he received a look so sharp that he came back with his tail between his legs, waiting. He heard footsteps behind him as soon as the doors opened and entered the elevator, leaning against the wall.

His eyes doubled in size when he saw Junhui coming in with him and the boy also recognized him, as they soon stared at each other and began to laugh. The drug dealer recovered before they reached the desired floor and dried up the small tears that accumulated in his eyes, denying with his head. In fact, he knew many peculiar figures.

They both went out and found the door to the writer's apartment closed, which filled Kwon's heart with despair. The loan shark's finger pressed the bell carefreely and he crossed his arms, waiting for his acquaintance, but who opened the door was an angry Seokmin. Right behind him was the owner of the residence, who also seemed angry, but made a genuine expression of panic as he recognized the new figures in the room. His friend looked at him and looked at where he looked, frowning.

— What else is going on here that I don't know?! —  Seokmin said said, in a hurt tone. — How can you say we're friends and hide things from me?! Your image is a lie! — He paused what he said, appearing to be about to cry. — Who is Vernon?!

— My personal life doesn't matter to anyone but me, okay?! — Minghao struck, his lips trembling with anger. 

— He's just worried about you, Minghao. I confess I am too. —  Soonyoung meddled, having all eyes on him. — Seungkwan's boys are dangerous, they're always deceiving and using the silly customers they pack around. You think you found a friend in there, but you're only being used. 

— That's enough! Get out of my house now! — Minghao cried, hitting his foot on the ground hard. — All of you!

Seokmin, who had his eyes filled with tears, spared no effort to gather the little pride he had left and walk away in a hurry. Soonyoung cast a reprimanded look in the direction of the Chinese and went after his beloved, passing the boy most lost in that situation before disappearing too. The redhead, who also had tears in his eyes, held the door and frowned as he stared at the other.

— Especially you.

— It's very rude of you to expel me. — The elder said, raising one of his eyebrows. — Besides, I also want to know who Vernon is.

The boy's curiosity wasn't a good thing, he was sure. His tall figure was protruding over the body of the youngest and the door behind him was closed when he entered the apartment, causing the other to retreat in uncertain steps toward the sofa. 

— When I talked about interest, it's because I want so much more than money. — Junhui muttered, his voice lowering a few-eighths and resuming incredibly sexy. — I want you all. I want to see you shaking all over just hearing my name. Seeing you come like a puppy when I call you. To see you obey me always. — He pushed the younger man's pectoral with his hand and knocked him down on the couch, standing between his legs. — I want to see you insane, wanting to fuck with me every time you lay your eyes on me.

Minghao's eyes widened and he let a smothered groan come out of his lips, which ripped a perverted smile from the other. Those words were absurd and frightening, but the boy's body didn't lie. The high-collared black blouse he wore was glued to his body, highlighting his stiff nipples, as well as the erection that began to form slowly in his gray shelter pants. 

— Pathetic. — The loan shark murmured as he held the chin of the boy, squeezing his cheeks tightly and gripping one grumbling from the other. He used his free hand fingertips to circle the relief on the boy's shirt, causing his chest to rise and fall rapidly. — I bet you'd come in your underwear if I treated you like a little bitch, wouldn't you? 

The redhead did not respond, causing Junhui to click his tongue on disappointment. He stopped caressing the boy and took his pistol from his pocket, carrying the hand that held the boy's face to his hair, pulling them back. The barrel touched the soft lips of the youngest and then began to skirt them slowly.

Days ago, Xu Minghao was crying as he had Wen Junhui's 356 TSW on his forehead. Now, he was struggling with a painful erection almost sticking his underwear by having it in his mouth, having the most perverse fantasies at that time. His scalp was aching and his was uncomfortably twitching, but he was never that excited with so few touches before and loved it. He raised his eyes, finding the cold look of the elder.

— Suck it. — Spoke simple. 

One of the redhead's eyebrows rose and he leaned his head a little, like a dog that did not understand the order given to him. A smiling sketch grew on his lips and he let a laugh in the salad escape.

— It's funny, you know? Minghao retorted with sudden courage. — You said yourself you want more, and with interest... But it looks like you're the one in need here.

Junhui's before-top expression gave way to a surprise expression and he froze for a few seconds, long enough for the redhead to realize what he said and feel a sudden fear of what the boy might do, but his reaction was swift. He let go of the younger one's hair and then slapped him firmly on the cheek, filling his palm with his left cheek. The blow bewildered the writer and gave Wen a chance to drag him by the hair to the ground, leaving him on his knees. 

When he understood what happened, Minghao's previously understated laughter turned into a laugh and soon the sound of his laughter filled the chic room, even if the atmosphere wasn't fun. A tear went down his cheek and made the sensation worse, but the Chinese only stopped laughing when his belly began to ache, having g the penetrating look of the other on him all the time.

— A slap... You've hurt me more than that, you know that? — He murmured, without taking the smug smile out of his mouth. — And it's going to take more than a gun to get me down on my knees.

Minghao tried getting up, but suddenly Junhui stuck his hand in his pocket in a hurry and put the bullet in the gun before the other's eyes, which made his smile disappear and his eyes wide. He accompanied the ammunition entering the drum and saw it being rotated, suddenly feeling his mouth dry. The eldest, realizing that it caused the desired effect, opened a smile and pulled the boy's hair again, making him face him in the eyes.

— You better do it right, you've been stalling me too long. Today, I'll put you on the line. — He murmured without breaking eye contact, watching the body of the boy tremble by a strong shiver that ran through it.

There wasn't much choice, at least not at that time. Timidly, Minghao's lips parted and his tongue touched the barrel of the gun, which was icy and had a railway taste. He skirted the structure slowly and then sheltered part of it in his mouth, sucking slowly as he stared at the other; the expression of the loan shark was the best part of it, for he bit his lips and pulled the air between his teeth while watching everything without diverting his eyes. 

Junhui's impatient hand pushed the gun deeper, ripping off a cough from the boy. His eyes filled with tears, which cascaded down the writer's reddish face as he climbed up and down with his mouth, using his tongue to wet the metal and leave it slippery. He heard the other pulling the air between his teeth and grunting, already feeling some discomfort by the position.

Suddenly, the big fingers hooked on the back of his neck and the pipe went in all over, causing Minghao to choke violently and shake his fisted hands over his thighs. His eyes filled with tears and he stared at the loan shark as if asking what he was doing, but his body handed him over again when his cock pulsed violently in his underwear, swinging the relief formed.

Picking up the rhythm gradually, the elder began to fuck Minghao's mouth with the pistol; thin lips tried to shelter as much as they could and the nostrils moved quickly, indicating how difficult it was to breathe at that moment. Saliva trickled down the corners of his mouth and descended down his chin, dripping on the carpet, as did the tears that descended from the boy's turned eyes, almost facing into the orbit.

Seeing Minghao like that made the older one get even harder than before, growling and grittng his teeth as he pushed the revolver harder into the other's wet throat. He's always had control of the Chinese since he met him, but knowing he could control him even in bed was even more exciting, more than anything he'd experienced in his life.

— Shit... — Sighed, taking the gun out of the boy's mouth and dropping his long threads.

Minghao bent over on the floor and coughed several times, feeling craving. He pulled the air out of his mouth in a hurry and leaned his hands on the ground, needing a few seconds to recover from it. He's never been so scared and at the same time as excited as he's been putting in his mouth the gun that's probably taken many lives.

He heard sounds of metal and raised his eyes in time to see Junhui's pants and underwear falling to the ground at once, causing his hard cock to hit his belly. He stared at the elder with his lips apart and a confused expression, drawing a laugh from the other, who soon held on to his mullet and pulled him close, pasting his face into his dick.

— See what you just done to me? — He asked rhetorically, breathing heavy as he felt the lips and nose of the other rub in his veins coarsely. — Today you're going to redeem yourself with me, you hear me? I'm going to take it out on you what you deserve.

The redhead had his head pulled and soon the elder's glans was rubbing on his lips and cheeks, leaving a trail of pre-cum wherever he went. The other pinched his lips to get in the way and then began to bang his tip on his tongue, moaning hoarsely together with the young man, who groaned too and squeezed his thighs against each other.

— You awaken the worst of me, Minghao... But that's the exactly thing you like, I know. — Hee opened a dirty smile, loving to see the needy gaze of the other in his cock, even though he had it in his mouth. — You likes to be treated like a whore by people who are worthless, because you are the same. Right? — He asked without waiting for an answer, turning his hips to draw circles on the muscle of the redhead. — But don't worry. After I'm done with you, I'm going to give you what you want.

Without warning, Junhui's cock went all the way into Minghao's mouth, with the glans beating straight into his throat and causing the boy to let out an obscene choke that echoed through the room along with the heavy breath the other released. He just held the redhead's head in place, feeling the warm throat contract around his extension so warmly that he felt he was going to cum right there.

— Fuck, what a hot mouth... — he muttered with his eyes closed, delighted to the extreme. — You didn't even ask to stop... Who's been training you, cockslut? How many guys did you let cum down your throat before me? — He asked, having fun precisely because he knew that the other could not answer him. — I thought I had something to corrupt, but you're scum.

He spat in the boy's face, who moaned muffled against his cock and sent vibrations through him, making him moan too. He let him go and saw him cough by air, but soon reburied his entire cock in the boy's throat, getting the same time inside it and releasing it once more. 

Desperate, Minghao used his right hand to wrap his base around him and then sheltered it in his mouth again, beginning to come and go with his head at his own pace while masturbating the length of the eldest, barely managing to close his fingers around him — in the same proportion that was large, Wen Junhui was thick. The other's  hand made mention of holding his head, but the loan shark seemed satisfied with his performance and then left his fingers on the red hairlocks, smoothing them slowly.

His mouth finally seemed to stop expanding and soon his lips went up and down around the hard cock fluidly, which was good, since he knew that the other would not take it easy with him if he did not pick up the rhythm. He closed his eyes and hollowed his cheeks while his left hand found and wrapped the testicles of the brownish, massaging them while delighting in the moans of the elder. Exciting the other was exciting him, and in fact he felt he would give the taste of cumming in his underwear for that scoundrel.

Junhui's hips moved again, but this time the writer was ready to receive it, so what struck him in the room was a groan of pure delight when the swollen  glans of the other hit the bottom of his throat, producing a wet and extremely erotic sound. Minghao's eyes opened and he stared at those of the elder, who had a frown and his lips axed. His buttoned shirt was unbuttoned halfway and his hair was glued to his forehead by sweat, being combed with his fingers sometimes.

He realized that the older man was going to cum when his thrusts became more erratic and brute, but he didn't care and dug his cheeks further, feeling the testicles of Junhui beating his chin repeatedly. Wen squeezed his eyes and grunted, pushing the younger's head with everything down as he felt the knot in his abdomen loosen.

Junhui's thick cum went down the younger's throat incessantly as his lips let curds and groans slip away, keeping the boy trapped in him until the last drop spilled. He pulled himself out of Minghao's mouth and pushed him on the couch no matter if he would get hurt, sitting on the wooden table to recover. Out of curiosity, he decided to look at the youngest.

Sitting on the floor and with his eyes half closed, a thin line of saliva and  jizz trickled down the corner of Minghao's mouth. His cheeks and nose were red as he pulled the air with difficulties, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His erection was now out of his pants, the median cock contracting with the red glans leaking pre-cum and staining his pants. His hands shook the carpet, ripping off some lint.

_ — Gege _ ... — He murmured softly, with a weak voice. — Will you give it to me now...?

The so sly and needy tone of the younger one triggered something inside Junhui and soon he charged in the direction of the other, pushing him using the knee on his chest and then bending over, sticking his lips roughly to those of the redhead below him as he pulled him by the nape of the neck.

Minghao closed his eyes and left tears of pure contentment as the elder's agile tongue pressed against his, both softening and going into compass; but that wasn't a dance. It was a rite, wild and crude. Junhui's mouth sought dominance and this was given up without much effort by the other, who had now left out disobedience and wanted to give himself body and soul to his lover. The kiss was separated and a thin line of saliva connected the mouths, giving an even more erotic aesthetic to the osculum.

— Stic your tongue out. — Junhui asked, being promptly obeyed.

The  brownish's lips closed around the muscle of others and he then began to suck it while still curving, ignoring the pain in his lower back by the bad position in which he was. The Chinese beneath him moaned muffled against the mouth of the other, feeling the free hand of the highest descend in the direction of his. The fingers provoked his glans, rubbing it only with the tips and pulling the foreskin carefully.

Again the mouths parted and then the writer was able to moan audible, lifting his hips toward the simplistic touches — but apparently Wen had other plans, as he pinched one of the young man's nipples and pushed him down, coming out of himself. He pulled the bar on the turtleneck blouse and soon the piece was on the other side of the room, allowing his slim torso to be exposed.

Minghao's ribs were marked on tanned skin, as well as his collarbones and shoulders. Some scars and bruises were visible on the skin, especially the purple one caused by the push he received at the loan shark's house; his dark nipples had small lumps thanks to bristling hair stiffened and hardened more and more with the icy wind of the air conditioning and the Chinese's hot breath beating his chest. He was probably the most ill-cared and skinny kid he had ever been involved with, but he was definitely the cutest. 

Junhui's thumb rubbed the wet glans at the same time that his tongue wrapped around one of the brownish nipples, plucking a surprised groan from the younger one. The suction snaps were loud, as were the wet sounds that the boy's foreskin produced as he went up and down, accumulating pre-cum in his extension. The older man knew exactly what he was doing. 

He climbed up his mouth and left some marks on the writer's shoulders and neck, but suddenly his lips shaved through the skin of the other and went straight through the damp nipples, stopping at the ribs. The boy's tongue ran through every marked bone, which was strange but exciting, until he left a hickey in place, causing the younger one to squirm and consequently stock up on his hand. 

He didn't know why, but suddenly he felt like a wild animal, with instincts touted to mark territory. He painted the other side of the boy's rib cage with kisses until his teeth stuck in Minghao's left ribs, pulling out a scream from the boy, who even tried to loosen up, but soon the canines of others buried themselves in his skin while being slowly masturbated.

The burning sensation took hold and the pain came, causing the redhead's eyes to fill with tears, but what should have been reason to discourage him or be the impulse to stop all that nonsense made his abdomen contract —it was almost as if the bite had pushed him closer to orgasm. The other's mouth climbed a trail of kisses that burned like fire and soon stuck to his neck, leaving more redder marks and turning the old reds into new carmins. 

_ — G-Gege, _ wait... — Minghao sighed with the frown, causing the elder to walk away only to look at how adorable he looked that way.

— Didn't you want to come? — Junhui asked, smiling widely. — I'm going to make you come. — He gave a little peck to the boy’s lips and squeezed his cock carefully, receiving a grumbling in response. 

The moans of the younger one were getting more and more whiny and his body already gave clear signs of orgasm when he finally cummed, soiling Junhui's hand and his pants with the viscous liquid while moaning washed over him, who was muttering softly incomprehensible words. The older man collected as much cum as he could and then pulled the boy by the arm as if he were a rag doll, sitting on the couch and lying him face down over his legs.

With one hand, the shelter pants was pulled out of the body of the youngest along with his underwear, leaving him naked and with his ass exposed to the brownish. The clean hand moved instantly and gave the boy’s ass four hard slaps, loving to see how the firm meat swayed in contact with his palm and feeling his cock harden again with the cry that the other released because of the pain.

He gathered the cum at the tip of three of his fingers and then separated the bands from the writer, feeling his heart fail some beats with the incredible vision he had: with some thin hair here and there, the muscle ring was contracting into nothingness. He knew that he had probably had a lot of fun going to the whorehouse, but that he still didn't have an active sex life just because of the way each fold seemed intact. The natural brownish color, the smell of skin, the contractions, that combo made the boy close his eyes and take a deep breath to ward off all the wicked thoughts that invaded his mind.

He rubbed his prints against the ring of muscles, which contracted automatically. Minghao made mention of moaning, but soon Junhui took his free hand to his mouth, sticking three of his fingers. He proceeded with the massage, feeling the muffled groans make his fingers vibrate inside the mouth of the other.

— I've always wanted to corrupt you, you know? — Junhui said, carefree, as he spread the boy's own cum between his asscheeks. — When I first met you, you were so silly that I really considered using you instead of helping you. — Laughed softly, showing that they both had a very different review of their first date. — Oh, Minghao, I could have given you so much more... Maybe you even had a leash with my name on it. Would you like that? § The question was rhetorical, but the violent contraction against his fingers sat as an answer. — Of course you would. You'd love to have a life made to serve me and get your ass stuffed with my cock every day.

The elder leaned over and spat between the redhead's buttocks, forcing the middle finger and the index finger. The ring of muscles offered resistance but soon the double digits were crushed by the warmness of the internal walls of the boy and he moaned muffled, sucking the other fingers as if his life depended on it. 

— Stop fucking contracting. — Junhui warned, taking his hand from the boy's mouth to slap him, the strongest of the night, on his left buttock. The boy didn't even scream, just crisp his lips and let the tears roll (perhaps in pain, maybe pleasure). Gradually he relaxed, receiving a caress in the harmed place. — Good boy.

His fingers began to enter and exit  rhythmically inside Minghao, who had his hands on a cushion in which he took all the pleasure and pain that the elder made him feel. He was used to having sex so he was just enjoying the hot feeling of his long fingers instilling him quickly, the wet sound that the act produced being almost therapeutic for the boy's depraved ears.

— You're unbelievable. You're really the dirtiest little bitch I've ever fucked in my life. — The elder said in a tone of disgust, but his hard cock was poking the belly button of the Chinese lying on his lap. — Beg me to fuck you. I want to see you humiliate yourself so I can fuck you today.

Minghao was really willing to beg, but instead of words, what came out of his lips was a broken groan when Junhui stuck another finger and folded the three digits inside him, stimulating his prostate every thrust. His head fell on the cushion and his lips tipped over incomprehensible words, which made the other increasingly excited and excited.

— You're not even talking right. Can I fuck you until you turn into a puddle of stupidity? — Provoked, pressing the boy's prostate without rest and gaining a cry in response. — If you're not going to say anything, we're going to be here all night. I hope you don't pass out from overstimulation.

— J-Junhui, f- fuck- ah! — Tears descended like cascading down the cheeks of the boy, who was desperate. — Please-ngh! A-Ah...

Satisfied with the response and provocation, Junhui removed his fingers from the inside of the boy in a wet sound, receiving a low grumbling in response. He lay the boy on the couch and sat behind him, lifting one of his legs by his calf. He used his free hand to hold his hard cock, climbing his hips a little. 

By pure provocation, the elder rubbed the glans against the folds of the redhead, making both moan with pleasure by the good friction. The brownish began rubbing against the boy while leaving bites on his shoulders, drawing gasps from each other.

_ — Gege,  _ please, just do it... — Hee cried, impatiently. — I need you to fuck me so bad...

— Well, your wish is my command. — Wen Junhui's evil smile was not a good sign.

Unannounced, Junhui's hips rose hard and he buried himself to the balls inside Minghao, who let out a smothered hiccup. His eyes filled with tears as the burning sensation took care of him and his lips writhed, but the boy's big hand wrapped around his neck and closed there, like a prison.

— Why are you crying? It makes it look like I'm being mean to you. — Junhui's tone was feigned, as if he were worried, but his veins pulsating against the inner walls of the younger one wouldn't let him lie. — You begged me to fuck you like my little cumdump all this time, didn't you? 

— Y-Yes, but... it hurts... — Minghao retorted, with a frown.  Wen Junhui was an asshole.

— I'm going to sort this out, huh? — He felt the smile of others against his neck and rolled his eyes, both because he remembered how irritating he was and because he felt his glans rubbing his prostate inside him.

Junhui was a complete liar, but he literally started fucking up the pain though. The first lunges were slow and painful, but soon the older one picked up the rhythm and then began to enter and exit the younger with mastery, causing him to moan softly as the sensations changed. 

Minghao leaned his head back and closed his eyes, turning them again under his eyelids as he felt his partner's cock massaging every piece of his. He had already made the most difficult descriptions, but there were not even dated words that could faithfully describe how delicious it felt to have hot meat pulsating inside him, his cock pulsing along, leaking pre-cum.

— I did, didn't I? — Junhui murmured, licking his neck.

— Yes- — Minghao interrupted himself, unable to formulate a coherent phrase. — Please...!

The sound of the skins crashing was getting louder as the loan shark fucked the writer more forcefully and soon the groans of both also increased in volume, probably bothering the neighbors underneath. Junhui's balls collided with Minghao's ass, which were already red by the impact of hi's groin there, and the two were in total frenzy. 

— Ride me, huh? — Junhui asked with a thick voice in the ear of the other, and he was not even crazy to deny it.

Junhui barely had time to get out of the boy and sit down when Minghao practically jumped on his lap and leaned on his shoulders, sliding fiercely on his hard cock. The two groaned loudly and the redhead threw his head back, his hair falling down his face as he began to ride willingly.

— So good... — Minghao stuttered, his cheeks redded by effort.

The  brownish's large hands went straight to the thin waist of the youngest and began forcing him down, making his ass virtually crush his testicles. In that position, the thrusts went directly into Xu's prostate, so the loan shark was having the privilege of seeing him rollinng his eyes, frowning or licking his lips every time he stimulated him.

With his feet resting on the couch, Minghao rode him so powerfully that he left the elder bewildered, looking at him with his lips axed and his eyes half-closed, usually saying some profanity in Mandarin or grunting incomprehensible words. The two were already sweaty and close to the limit, so the highest glued their foreheads.

— Let me cum inside you... — Junhui asked as he looked into Minghao's eyes, receiving a squealing groan in response.

He stole a kiss from the boy and soon the two were clinging as if there was no tomorrow, still without interrupting the movements. The older one grunted and contracted his thighs, feeling his hips propel themselves as the characteristic knot formed in his belly.

In a matter of minutes, Junhui cummed. His strong arms closed around Minghao's torso and he forced the boy down, reaching deep inside himself as he filled the boy with thick ropes of cum, moaning his name with a raspy voice.

The brownish orgasm provoked Minghao's orgasm and soon the boy began to tremble, soiling the older man's pectoral with his cum as he spasmed and turned his eyes, falling weakly on the couch. The two were dumped, naked and wet as they tried to recover.

Junhui began to dress soon after Minghao offered him a cloth to clean himself without saying a single word — it was not necessary. Maybe that was a truce, an uncompromising fuck, but there was no need to verbalize that contract. In silence, the older one left.

The Chinese found himself strangely pleased as he walked home, with his hands in his pants pocket. He saw a smear of saliva near his zipper and remembered all the expressions of pleasure he met that day, shaking his head in denial to ward off bad thoughts. He just continued his path and entered the condo in a hurry, not being fast enough to get away from the — stolen — camera clicks from Seungcheol.


	19. Nineteen.

Soonyoung was, in fact, a man who was the exact definition of duality. He was so dangerous that he stopped being wanted by the police or chased by other local drug dealers and gangs — literally no one wanted to get in his way.

But his other half, the frail one, even seemed to be another personality, almost as if the boy was sharing control of his mind with two completely different and distinct people in the way of acting. It was scary for those who knew both sides of Kwon Soonyoung.

Seokmin was one of the few, having softened the drug dealer's heart so easily that he would be amazed if he knew how cold his stayer could be when it came to his work and other personal matters. It was even hard to believe that he worked with drugs after having it in the palm of his hand, despite having as evidence all the merchandise scattered around the house of the brunette.

The others, who did not really know him, would be really amazed to see him all withering looking at his passion lying face down, face down on the pillow as his body trembled with the short sobs he let loose, muffled on the quilt.

He sat on the edge of the mattress and smoothed the back of the youngest slowly, not knowing exactly what kind of words to use. He hugged him from behind until he felt him calm down and walked away a little, making room for Lee. Soon, he turned on his belly up and stared at the elder with watery, red eyes, as well as his nose. 

— Oh, Seok, don't make that face... You don't know how much it's hard for me to see you like this. — He murmured the dark man, opening his arms to welcome the boy, who threw himself and pressed him. — Is there anything I can do? Seriously, just tell me. 

— No, hyung... This is something that should be Hao's initiative, not yours... — The other answered very softly, with the hoarse voice of crying so much. — It's just... I'm so upset, you know? Not just with him, but with me. I told him without sparing details that I'm in love with a drug dealer, but even though I know pretty much everything, he hid a lot of things from him. Am I such a bad friend so he doesn't trust me?

— Look, I think Hao's being a little... shitty as a friend of hiding things like that from you, but I think he has some reason. I don't know. —  Soonyoung began by choosing well the words he would use. — I myself lied a lot to a person in the past about my life, until the day the truth came out and they almost went to jail because of me. — He b it his lower lip. — Maybe it's Hao's way of protecting you from something that's going on.

— But if he lies to protect me, who's going to protect him? — Seokmin whimpered, getting a few quick rubs on his back when the elder felt he was going to cry again.

— We may not know what's going on, but we can still help Minghao if he needs to. — Reassured the secretary, who seemed to consider the idea. — Look, I don't know what he's hiding, but I can take away your curiosity about that guy who came with me in the elevator.

The glow in  Seokmin's eyes returned and he raised his head, giving one last sniff before rubbing his face and breathing deep, swallowing the crying. In exchange for this, he received a little peck, which made him open a broad smile.

— That was Junhui. Wen Junhui, being more accurate. —  Soonyoung said, tracing shapes on the back of the youngest with his fingertips. — When I started expanding my drug sales in China, I ended up getting kind of... Broken? It's not really the right word, it's that I wanted to spend on some things and the money wasn't going to go all out. — He grimaced as he remembered those difficult times, getting a giggle in return. — Junhui is a loan shark, so I took money from him, got what I wanted and then I gave the money back soon after. We're not friends or anything, because it's been about seven years and he's been off the map for a while, but now he's here. I wonder what he came here to do. 

Seokmin's phone began to ring again and the secretary sighed, receiving a reprimanded look from the elder. It was the sixth time Minghao was calling, and the brownish one ignored them all. When the touch was muted, the brunette clicked his tongue.

— Minghao may be an asshole for lying on his face, but you should also listen to his side. —  Soonyoung said, receiving a mutter in response. He held the boy's chin and lifted him up, making eye contact. — Give him a chance, my love...

_ Love _ .  Dokyeom's heart began to beat his chest and his lips opened to retort, but all that came out was a passionate sigh as the corners of his mouth involuntarily amassed in a silly smile. Glad he managed to convince the younger one, the drug dealer gave him a long peck and threw himself into bed, decided to give friends privacy to talk.

Still ignoring the missed calls, Seokmin went straight to the messages, seeing some random notifications and the writer's 12 accumulated messages after having his chat archived. Taking a deep breath, defiled and entered the conversation.

** Eisa:  ** I _ know, I was an asshole. _

_ You probably have a lot of questions and you want to call me names. _

_ But the truth is, I'm done lying. _

_ I'm done fooling you, Jihoon and myself. _

_ It's about time to be honest with everyone. _

_ You're probably mad, since you ignored my calls. _

_ And I'm definitely not in my right. _

_ But can we meet at the café Jihoon works at? _

_ Whether you and he are going to keep talking to me or not, it's up to you. _

_ But I want to do my part, at least one last time. _

_ If you come, I'll be waiting at 4:00. _

_ I'm sorry. _

** [...] **

As cold as he was outside, Minghao was practically cooking under his sweatshirt. He had already rubbed the sweat out of his face with long sleeves several times, but soon the thin layer covered his forehead and palms, evidencing how nervous he was. His heart beat so fast that he considered having a heart attack, not to mention the urge to cry — but he had cried so many times before making that decision that he no longer had tears to shed.

Hesaw, in the distance, his secretary approaching. He was also warm and had a slightly swollen eyes, causing his heart to break into a thousand little pieces to imagine that he made the boy cry. Someone pure like him, or helpful like Jihoon, definitely didn't deserve to be being fooled the way the Chinese did.

— Hi. — That's what he murmured as he approached, staring at the ground. 

The two were silent for a while until the writer scratched his throat and opened the door, letting his secretary in first. Inside there were no customers or employees besides Jihoon, who came up to the three and turned the sign from "open" to "closed" when the other two passed. 

The three settled on a corner table, with the Chinese on one side and his two friends on the other, and soon the redhead scratched his throat, putting his hands on the table. The others could see their fingers trembling and were minimally concerned, even though they were thinking about things completely different from each other.

— I called you here because... I tricked you. For days, weeks, months and years. I've fooled you since we met. — He said, swallowing dry. — I'm not who you think I am. 

— What are you talking about? — Jihoon asked, with the frown. He wasn't up to date on the news. 

— Everything I've told you about me is a lie. That's why I never talked about my past, or where I came from. — He murmured, shaking his hands with his fist with force. — My family didn't die in a boating accident, as I said it did. I ran away by boat. My father abandoned my mother and ran off with another woman. She hated me and beat me. My brother was stealing so he could eat at the center of minor offenders, when the car left him on the border with the city, my mother would beat him there and beat us both at home. 

The two boys watched in shock the boy's expression darken and then he soon began to cry, letting thick tears run down his face as he sobs, squeezing his eyes. 

— I couldn't take it anymore! I met Junhui there and borrowed money from him, but I ran away! I took the first barge I found and left, abandoning my family and contracting a debt of 12232.58 yuan with a loan shark! — His voice came out broken. — Now Junhui wants to kill me and the police came after me! All I built was with dirty money, and now I'm paying for all my sins...

Seokmin left tears he didn't even know had formed slide down his face as he watched his boss collapsing in front of him, crying so loudly that it was possible to feel the pain in his screams and whining. He slowly faced Jihoon, who was as shocked as he was, and then held out his hands to hold the boy’s, who trembled. The blonde ran to the other side and wrapped the Chinese's shoulders, hugging him awkwardly.

— Hao, I- My God... —  Dokyeom stammered in shock. — Why have you lied to us for so long? If I had known this before, I would have helped you... — He murmured, smoothing the back of the hands of the other with his thumb. — I can't even imagine how hard it must have been for you to keep all this...

— Fuck, I don't even know what to say. — Jihoon was sincere, feeling the youngest trembling against his body. — But I assure you that will not change anything in our friendship. — That seemed to take the boy by surprise, who stopped crying for a moment and stared at him. — Of all the people I've met in my life, you are by far the best of them. And look, none of them have ever lied to me. — Crisped his lips, uncertain of what to say in that situation. — I'm not going to lie saying it's okay because I really need to digest everything, but I assure you nothing will change. Just... Give me a break, okay? I'm not mad about the lie, but it's a little shocking to get two-year-old information in one day. 

— I make Jihoon's words mine, Hao. You're an amazing person independent of your past. — Seokmin managed to say, giving a small but genuine smile. — If you need it, we're here. Are you okay? You don't have to lie about anything anymore, we'll help you with what we can.

— Thank you, boys... You don't know how relieved I feel to tell everything, hiding the truth for so long from so many people is suffocating. — Minghao murmured, drying his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. — Well... That was all. I'm sorry about everything. — He said one last time, clearing his throat. — I think I need to be a little lonely, I still want to put my head in place even if I know you're not disappointed in me. 

— And I need to get back to work, my boss will skin me alive if he finds out that I closed the store. — Jihoon said, making the other two laugh.

Finally, the only one left in the cafeteria was the blond, who that day would have to stay overnight on his office — he would remember to write an anonymous letter sending all his colleagues and boss to hell and other ugly places when he finally put enough money together to live well and say he'd give up that job. 

He finished locking the store and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it still leaning against the front of the cafeteria. He sat his cap on his head and then started walking home, since his car was in the shop. Walking was therapeutic and that day had already been full of emotions, so even if he had to do physical effort, the boy did not complain.

It was the figure that came towards him distracted and accompanied, however, that left him in a bad mood. Of all possible places, did he need to pass himself right? But not only anger but also a sense of mistrust invaded Jihoon, who then hid in a side alley before he was noticed. He crouched near a dumpster, putting out his cigarette in the snow and waiting.

— You're the most random company I have, but I... I'm glad I met you. — He heard, making a face. — I need to tell you something.

— Tell me.

— I... I was hired by someone to photograph my ex, but I found out he's involved in the wrong stuff. I slept at his house to get information, and I found a cocaine pin. I don't know what to do. 

— What do you mean?

— The person who hired me wants this evidence to detonate my ex's career, since the two are rivals, but I don't know if I should do that... It's just not right. I took the job because I thought I could have my love back, but I don't want to do it anymore. 

— Is your ex the writer I mentioned to be investigating?

— How do you know?

— If I tell you, you won't believe it.

The voices became increasingly distant and soon the two left, leaving Jihoon alone, crouched in the snow, on the garbage side. The blonde's ears squealed and his eyes were wide, staring at the fallen snow as if he were going to melt it with just the look. His fingers went out into his pocket until he pulled the phone, almost knocking over the device while dialing the number in a hurry. He bit his lower lip hard and grunted, hammering the wall on the side.

— Hello? — Minghao murmured on the other side of the line.

— Hao, you're in danger. — He murmured back, afraid of the young men being around. — Mingyu, he- He knows you're on drugs and he's trying to sell that information to someone. 

The phone went mute and Jihoon cursed all generations of Kim Mingyu, walking towards his apartment to try to call Minghao again and possibly visit him if necessary. If there was anyone he hated with all his might, it was the photographer, far more than he hated  Soonyoung when he was almost arrested for drug possession.


	20. Twenty.

Minghao was sad, but now he was furious. Some books, bowls and paintings went to the ground in his rage and now he was walking in circles around the partially messed-up apartment while waiting, his hands cutted and bleeding because of the shards of glass he tried to clean while still trembling with anger.

On his phone there were two messages and a missed call, but he knew he had no need to see them when the person in question had been invited to his home and was on his way to arrive. Even his doorman was surprised by the sudden request the Chinese made to him.

The bell rang and the redhead practically flew in quick steps to the door, unlocking it with trembling fingers. When he landed his eyes on Mingyu, who had a smile on his lips and a bouquet of flowers in his arms, he cleft his teeth and pulled the elder by the arm inside, already feeling his body boiling.

— I miss visiting you... I was surprised when I got your message, I thought you didn't want to see me. By the way, I didn't even remember that you had my number, just you who tried to run away from me for so long... It's a surprise, but a good surprise. The best I could ever get in my life. — The brownish murmured, with a small smile on his face.

The younger one suddenly turned with a bloodthirsty look on his face, which made the smile of the other fade away, and began to walk towards him, regardless of the shards of glass that entered his bare feet and pinned his skin. Instinctively, the other was moving away at the same pace, but soon he had nowhere else to go.

— You really have guts, Kim Mingyu. You got a lot of guts to show up with that innocent face after trying to fuck up my life! — He screamed, taking one of the vases on the table and throwing in the direction of the boy. Luckily he lowered himself, causing the ceramic to crack in the window and spread on the floor along with dirt and water. — How much is that bastard Lee Chan paying you?!

— H-How do you know that?! — He stuttered, wide-eyed.

— I didn't know it was Lee Chan, but now I have one more reason to want to kill you, you know?! — Minghao laughed humorlessly, causing the other to fall on his ass while taking a broad step toward him. — How long have you been following me? — He asked between teeth, without receiving answers. — How long ago, you son of a bitch?!

The redhead's angry scream triggered a crying crisis in Mingyu, who had some pieces of clothing torn from dragging on the glass. The bouquet of flowers had been down for a while and had been crumpled by the writer's feet, the sunflowers now staining the already dirty white carpet of dirt and blood.

— You broke up with me because you wanted to be a writer, it's been years, but I've never been over you! I-I haven't even had a quiet night's sleep since you left me! — He pressed his eyes, letting thick tears flow. — I tried to sleep with others, even with one of the cops who is investigating you, but you are unique! — He lifted up his gaze, finding the red eyes of anger of the other. — I just wish I had you back!

— Ruining my life?! Leaking personal information from me?! Fuck you! — The youngest grunted, kicking the bouquet. — You're such a freak, what were you going to do?! Wait for me to get out of jail if I hadn't killed myself before?! Take advantage of my emotional frailty to convince me that I made a mistake breaking up with you?! 

In a rage, Minghao's fist rose and descended on Mingyu's face twice, throwing him to the ground. He watched the photographer spit a red goo on the floor and crawl ridiculously through the glass and ceramic fragments, leaving a red trail through which his body passed. The writer combed his hair back with his fingers and sighed, letting some tears slip away. 

— Damn, and with Lee Chan... You've never been innocent in this story... Or did you think a maniac who wants me arrested for drug possession or whatever shit gets me off his back would help you win me over?! — He laughed again, but this time of sadness. — If you want to do something right in your life, cancel the contract with him and get out of here. Go back to Korea, or run off to Mexico, anything. If you still have any humanity left, that's what you're going to do to redeem all the suffering you've put me through since we met, Kim Mingyu.

With his nose bleeding, the boy coughed, still dropped to the ground, but their attention turned when a beep went off in the room. The door unlocked and Junhui came in, wearing a black overcoat and a hat of the same color as he always did every time he needed to go out in public.

— I've heard it all. That's all I needed to hear to intervene. — He murmured, smiling at Minghao.

It was all very sudden, not even giving someone time to react. Junhui walked in quick steps towards Mingyu and kicked him to the ground when he used the window to lean and stand, stepping on the brownish's chest. He pulled out his pistol with silencer and placed it on the boy's forehead, smiling even more when he saw his look of despair before pulling the trigger.

Pieces of the photographer's brain and blood spread to the floor and window when the silent shooting was made, staining everything red and pink. The body fell to the ground with the expression eternized in dread and the loan shark took a turn in the pool of blood that began to form, seeing the hole through which the bullet came out. That made him keep the gun back, staring at the other boy in the room.

— You're welcome.

Instead of listening to thanks, however, all he heard was a cry of dread and anger, a cry that froze his soul. It was the closest feeling to the fear the brownish has ever felt. Minghao's hands clenched and the boy staggered toward him in a hurry, punching him hard in the jaw.

The blood filled his mouth thanks to the involuntary bite he gave on his tongue, but it didn't affect him much. The redhead slipped on a piece of fallen brain and went to his knees to the ground, screaming in despair as tears descended down his face uncontrollably. Junhui went down and hugged the boy in silence, letting him cry.

Suddenly he pulled the gun out of his pocket once more and found his pistol on the back of Minghao's neck with force, causing the boy to give an involuntary spasm before falling unconscious on the floor on the brown and red fuzzy carpet. 

** […] **

It was already dark when the boy's heavy eyes opened, making him moan in pain when the throbbing hit his head along with severe pain, especially in the back of his head. His tired eyes swept the room and he realized he was still in the living room, which made him jump to remember what happened earlier.

Seeing Mingyu's corpse on the floor of his living room was scary, but he didn't know it would be triple terrifying not to see him. Not only was his ex-boyfriend's body gone, but all the dirt related to him. The window was clean, the vases were in place although some were missing, the floor was shining and the fuzzy carpet was replaced by an even more beautiful and spotless one. 

He got up off the couch and staggered, feeling everything spinning and needing to lean on the wall so as not to go straight to the floor. His eyes swept the room more carefully and he swallowed hard, thinking about the chance Junhui was still in the apartment, but it was all so quiet that he ruled out the hypothesis.

As he walked through his residence in search of evidence of what happened while he was passed out, Minghao looked in the mirror. His eyes were still swollen from crying and he had probably exhausted his voice after so much screaming that day, but his clothes were changed and he was even smelling of soap. He hugged himself tightly, resuming his macabre tour.

When he arrived in his room, he saw his cell phone lying on the floor. He turned on the light and ran towards the device, but his hope died entirely when he saw straight; in pieces, there was nothing that could be done over the phone of the Chinese. Even his chip was broken.

He walked out as if they had ripped his soul out and fell on the couch, motionless. His watery eyes looked over the room for the last time until they stopped at a yellow petal attached to the floor. He shrank in a fetal position and allowed himself to cry, realizing he was lying again 10 years ago. 

_ "If you kill me, I won't miss anything. If you kill my family, it's going to be the same as leaving everyone alive. They're nothing." _

He had a lot to lose. He always had.

** […] **

Suspended from his job for a week, in love with a prostitute and rejected for his great and unique love. Choi Seungcheol was one of the most pathetic creatures ever seen, because he never knew when it was time to give up. It wasn't for nothing that he was getting ready to go to Scandale again.

The truth is, he hasn't been back since his confession. He spent half his suspension drinking and smoking to try to end the pain of rejection, but nothing seemed to take away that damn feeling of insufficiency. In the end he felt like a drug addict who was going to kill him in the long run. 

His car stopped in the street of the brothel and he went down a little earlier, his heart palpitating quickly. He rubbed his face with his hands and then entered the line, which was empty. He was the only visitor of the day and it made him even more nervous.

All of a sudden, the security guards came in and  Jeonghan came too. The boy wore casual clothes and had his arms crossed, facing the officer from top to bottom in a judgmental manner. He definitely didn't like that look, but he wouldn't be rude to the best friend of his passion.

— What do you want? — The prostitute asked, raising an eyebrow.

— I... —  Seungcheol scratched his neck, ashamed. — I came to see Joshua.

— We are closed today. — Jeonghan retorted, snarling his eyes. — And Joshua was forbidden to attend to you. Don't come back.

The harsh words hit the brunette, who was static in place while trying to process the information given to him. The brownish one got a lock behind his ear and stared at the elder, feeling a little sorry but knowing that it was the best thing to do to protect the brothel. 

— Look, don't stay that way, there are other brothels in the neighborhood and-

Seungcheol pulled out his work pistol and lifted it up, taking two shots up. The prostitutes inside the brothel began screaming in dread and Jeonghan was pulled by one of the security guards, who closed the door of the establishment.

— You can't separate me from Jisoo, I love him! — The brunette cried, kicking the door.

The owner of a bar next door was startled by the shots, quickly seeking the phone to call the police, but was suddenly stopped by one of his customers, who finished drinking the dose that was served to him and raised his hand in protest.

— Let me handle this.

While reloading the gun, the upset man did not notice the sudden approach of someone across the street, who crossed until he was on the same side of the sidewalk as him. His gaze rose and he swallowed in, trembling.

— Who do you think you are to come and make a scandal in my area, you piece of shit? — The other black-haired boy threatened, sticking his hand in his pocket. — Get out before I drill a hole in you, sucker.

Seungcheol put only one bullet in the drum, aiming and shooting. The shot failed, giving Soonyoung enough time to draw his gun, but he definitely wasn't fast enough and the second shot was fired into his shoulder, crossing his flesh and coming out the other side.

The dealer howl in pain and fell to the ground, pressing the wound and feeling the burning consume him. He raised his blurred eyes to the fleeing figure and grunted, being helped by the prostitutes who left when they realized the danger was over. While his wound was stanched one of them picked up his phone.

— Who should I call? — The young man asked, making him smile among the pain.

— For my love...

** […] **

Seungcheol's heart was racing, pure adrenaline, as he ran through the dark, panting streets. He stopped for a while to breathe and leaned against the wall, not believing what he had just done. He had shot a criminal and frightened the brothel his beloved worked in.

He pulled his own hair in frustration and grunted, being illuminated by a very strong light that blinded him for a few seconds when he raised his head, but soon realized that they were the headlights of a car. The light went off and the door opened, revealing his co-worker, who went out in quick steps towards him.

— Wonwoo?

The punch was right and knocked the elder to the ground, making him scream for the fright and dropping his gun to the ground. The reddish lifted him by the collar of his blouse and looked into the bottom of his eyes, carrying a countenance of pure hatred.

— I intended to give you to our superiors as soon as possible, but you've reached the limit! — Grunted, squeezing the fabric of the other man's shirt against his fingers. — An innocent man died because of you, all because you can't be a decent fucking professional! 

—  Wonwoo ,  I -

— Shut up! — He screamed in the face of the man and punched him again, causing him to spit blood on the floor.

Suddenly his gaze traveled to the pistol dropped to the ground and climbed into the shirt that the elder wore, being able to see gunpowder dots scattered around it. He connected on and quickly picked up the gun on the ground, hooking it up and pointing it at Seungcheol's head. At that time, it wasn't two cops. They were two wild animals.

— You're going to tell me everything you know. And you'd better start now.


	21. Twenty one.

Definitely that act would have been much more dangerous almost a month ago, but things escalated so fast that literally anyone would do the same as Minghao and get ready to go after Junhui after the boy practically disappeared.

He was still boiling of anger of the loan shark and, honestly, he had no idea what his reaction would be to meet him face-to-face again, but he couldn't suppress curiosity about what happened after he passed out. He had no idea of the boy's potential, but he had proved to be a very competent criminal when he disappeared with the evidence of the crime and Kim Mingyu's corpse leaving nothing but a simple sunflower petal behind — and now he understood how it took more than 10 years for the authorities to find the man.

He hesitated a little, but suddenly realized that all that was going on in his life was because of his escapes and lies. He wouldn't run away from Wen Junhui. He wouldn't lie about wanting to know what he did to the photographer's body. If he was going to kill him, maybe it would stop his wave of evil and get his  friends's faces off, so he wasn't afraid. H'd do what needed to be done.

He took a taxi and said the address of the brownish man, who ended up recording in his head because he couldn't save him on his cell phone or write it anywhere. His hands were starting to get sweaty and his feet hit the floor mat rhythmically, evidencing his anxiety, but soon the vehicle stopped in front of the condo. He handed some notes to the driver and went down, stopping in front of the scene.

The electronic gate was open and this caused Minghao to question the safety of the environment, but soon sneaked inside and lowered himself near the lookout's sentry box, waiting for a new moment of distraction to run toward the elevator. He went in and pressed the tenth floor on the buttons, taking a deep breath.

The metal box shook when it reached the desired floor and the doors parted, giving space for the boy to get out and reach the corridor. His trembling finger pressed the bell and he waited, unanswered.

— Wen Junhui, it's me! — He yelled, making a face as he sounded louder than he should have.

If his calculations were right, half an hour has passed since he arrived at the scene, the total time he spent squeezing the bell and calling the older man's name in front of his door. For a moment he felt stupid to imagine that a loan shark who recently killed a person would have time to stay at home soft, but he also didn't blame himself for trying.

He had sat on the floor and was playing with his fingers, bored, since he no longer had a cell phone with internet — he was lucky enough to get a disposable flip phone and give his provisional number to Jihoon, who almost had a syncope when he found out about Mingyu but promised he wouldn't say anything to anyone until it was all resolved. He didn't know how long he'd have to wait, and it made him want to leave.

Suddenly the door opened and made the Chinese jump, standing in a single motion and staring at the figure that would come out the door. Straightening his blouse and wiping the corner of his mouth, Joshua left the apartment with messy hair. He made eye contact with the redhead and froze for a moment, but rushed to the elevator after looking at the other from top to bottom and closed the door as quickly as possible, leaving the other confused.

— Did you come to see me? 

He took another fright when he heard Junhui's sudden voice, but was soon advancing towards the elder. He closed the door with a kick and held the other against the wall by the neck, hanging him as he stared at the bottom of his eyes.

— Where's Mingyu? — He asked, getting a giggle in response. — Tell me now! 

— In Mexico, who knows. — Junhui mocked, making the grip on his neck intensify and a strange and suffocated sound escaping from his lips. 

— Where is he?! — He insisted on the question, feeling his nails spike on the skin of the other. 

— I-I did you a favor...! — He laughed breathlessly, with tears building up in his eyes. — W-With him out of the game, no one else will know of your dirty past... — Grunted, still smiling. —  Seungcheol h-has its own problems, it’s o-over.

Minghao was willing to ask more questions, but suddenly his phone rang in his pocket. He found himself forced to release the brownish on the floor and watched his body tip to the ground on his knees, a thin line of saliva dripping on the floor while the other's open mouth pulled the air in a hurry, before answering the call. 

— Hello?

_ — Soonyoung is sleeping on my couch and bled on one of my blankets. _

— What? — He's got his eyes open wide. — What do you mean?  Soonyoung at your house? 

— He  _ took a bullet and found out he has a new cop in the area. Three other local drug dealers were arrested. It's some heavy shit. — _ Jihoon said, looking  bored on the other side of the line. —  _ I decided I want to become a better person and did this charity, since his rent are 15.720,80 yens and free weed. _

— Is that good...? I always swore that you would try to kill Soonyoung if you were in the same environment, it's kind of surreal to know that you're living together.

_ — I'm not even buying it, but I think it's time to move on. He got me out of jail and disappeared from my life when I asked him, O have no reason to be mad at him anymore.  _ —  He admitted, being silent for a few seconds. _ —That's the  _ worst. — They both laughed. —  _ I also befriended your secretary. I thought, I don't know, he was going to get suspicious, thinking I was going to have sex with  _ _ Soonyoung _ _ while he wasn't here, but at the end of the day we both shared a beck together yesterday and he's pretty cool. I think he genuinely liked me, or just pretends really well. _

— He's nice, relax. I bet you guys are going to get along a lot more over time.

_ — Hopefully, it's not good for me to hate people anymore. _ —  Jihoon muttered, seeming to remember an important detail. — __ _ Look,  _ _ Soonyoung _ _ said that the one who shot _ _ him was a  _ _ Seungcheol _ _. The guy's a cop, too. _ —  The name made Minghao swallow hard. — _ I don't want you arrested for having sex. _

— I'll be careful, relax. I've got to go.

_ — Bye. _

When he turned his attention to the drug dealer, he realized that he sat around the whole time paying attention to the conversation and staring at him. He sighed and massaged his temples, closing the phone and biting his lower lip.

— Look, I just found out that a close person was shot by  Seungcheol in Kabukicho, and that there's another cop in the area. Three people were arrested. — Swallowed hard, scratching the nape of the neck. — Well... Take care of yourself.

— You who need it, I already know how to take care of myself. Junhui blinked. —How about you go? I've already saved your skin, you know how hard it was to clean everything? I'm tired of it.

Without retort, Minghao left the loan shark's apartment and entered the elevator, breathing deep while rubbing his face; all encounters with Wen Junhui were extremely stressful, even when the boy wasn't even doing anything. Even if they were on good terms, he was still a psychopath and basically the reason his life was ruined, so it wasn't the simple favors the boy was doing to him that were going to erase the past.

He decided to walk back to organize his thoughts and sighed, already feeling his mind torture him. He hated Mingyu with all his strength, but since the boy died the youngest found himself thinking about the good times they had and how hard it was with him.

The photographer was a complete scoundrel and this was undeniable, but in the end, both were very similar. Minghao was suffering the consequences of letting others take advantage of his frailty in the same way that Mingyu ended up dead for letting his feelings be used for the sake of evil. He wasn't an angel and deserved the solitude he got into, but he was one of the biggest victims of that whole plot and didn't deserve that end. 

The tears pricked his eyes and the redhead bit his lower lip hard, letting them roll without trying to stop; crying was something that had done much in those two days that passed. He was distracted when he was suddenly pulled by the sleeve of his shirt, being pressed into a car. He groaned in pain, wide-eyed when his vision focused.

With his mouth bruised and a black in his eye, Seungcheol was deplorable. His eyes had deep dark circles and bandages all over his face, the result of discussion with his teammate. His lips trembled and opened in a disturbing smile.

— Finally... finally, I have you! — He murmured with gritted teeth, with tears falling from his wide eyes; he no longer had humanity. — I finally found you, Xu Minghao. It took me a long time to find you, but right now, I've got you right here... I'm going to get and you're going to regret messing with me!

Suddenly the man's hand went into his pants and pulled out his police gun, causing the redhead to wide his eyes and start shaking. The pipe leaned against his forehead and pressed there, while the manic gaze of the other pierced his.

— Get in the car. — Ordered, unanswered. — Now! — He yelled, causing the other to shrink.

The man used his stature to pull the writer's skinny body violently and pull him out of the door, opening it from the driver's side. He began to force the boy into the vehicle without the slightest amount of care, watching him squint and scream in response. He took a kick in the chest and, in response, punched the Chinese man in the face, who screamed in pain.

Minghao stopped squinting suddenly when he had the gun pointed at him again and leaned against the window, pale as if he had seen a ghost. The policeman smiled, thinking it was the reason for the fear of the boy, but a shadow was cast behind him suddenly.

He turned just when Junhui raised the huge stone with both hands, descending the object the elder's head. His chunky body tipped over the pavement of the sidewalk and began to convulse, with blood dripping from his dirty hair as his legs kicked in all directions. His eyes turned into the orbit and the loan shark threw the blood-smeared stone into the dumpster when he saw that the officer began foaming, knowing that he was going to die in a matter of minutes after taking another blow that sank his skull. 

Reaching out, Junhui helped Minghao out of the car, seeing that the boy was in shock. He pulled him by his shoulder when he noticed him staring at Seungcheol's corpse lying on the sidewalk, with blood dripping into a wolf-mouthed manhole on the side of the road, causing the boy to walk with him back. It was a good idea to peek across the balcony, being able to see the officer in the car following the writer indiscreetly.

The way to the older man's apartment was silent and he even considered the idea of the other being in complete shock for death, but at least he moved and responded to commands. He left him sitting on the couch and came back with a medical kit, beginning to wipe the boy's nose with a wet cloth. He noticed that he was restless, something common but not suitable for the moment.

— Why? — The youngest murmured softly suddenly.

— Why what?

— Why do you always come to save me? — He let some tears roll, but they were pure confusion. — I thought you wanted me to die.

Junhui crisped his lips and laughed, using the same wet cloth to dry the redhead's tears. He began to bandage his lower lip, thinking exactly what he would answer to the boy.

— Don't think I'm trying to redeem myself. I'm an incorrigible junk and that's not going to change. You still owe me my money. — Murmured, spreading the ointment in the wound with the tip of his finger. — But even though you deserve to be persecuted by me, you have nothing to do with others. That's not fair. None of them have any reason to hate you, and yet it's the second time anyone's tried anything against you. — He laughed softly, denying with his head. — To me, you're still that futureless kid I knew. What you've been up to, I don't know, redhead, but the only one who has the morals to charge you with this story is me. And I'm not going to let anything happen until I get my money. 

Jeknew Junhui was being honest when he said he wasn't being nice or feeling sorry for himself, since he was still a debtor, but hearing those comforting words caused Minghao to burst into tears, burying his face between his hands. Not knowing what to do, the elder just wrapped his body in a clumsy embrace.

Both stayed in that same position until the redhead stopped crying, drying his tears with his shirt sleeve. The tallest lifted him up and took him to his room, which was incredibly clear and organized. He helped the boy lie down and then sat on the edge of the bed, hugging his legs.

— If you ever go back to China... — Junhui murmured, drawing the attention of the youngest. — You should try Mr. Ubon's soup. He's got a stall now.

— With hair in the soup? — Minghao asked, smiling weakly.

— With hair in the soup. — He smiled back.


	22. Twenty two.

In uniform, Wonwoo entered the police station with trembling hands as he squeezed them against each other, feeling his heart beating hard in his rib cage. His footsteps were heavy and the buzz around him never paraded, as did the voices in his head.

He went straight to the deputy's office and knocked on the door twice, _ hearing _ a " between " being told and pushing the wooden door, closing it. It made sense and then sat in the chair free, staring at his boots.

— I'm here to give you my report, sir.

— All right, start with Wen Junhui.

**_ "— I swear to God, I didn't talk to _ ** **_ him _ ** \- — _ Another punch _ _ was delivered in his mouth. _

—  **_ Tell  _ ** **_ me what you know about him, you bastard! _ **

**_ — I swear I don't know! —  _ ** _ He never saw  _ _ Seungcheol _ _ so fragile.  _ **_ — I saw him the first time I came to see Joshua. He somehow knew we were after him.  _ **

**_ — And what have you done about it? _ **

**_ — Nothing, I swear! All I wanted was to see Joshua, I just investigated Junhui at the behest of the police station! All I know is he's been around the area a lot, that's all. _ **

_ The reddish man accessorized his glasses, massaging his temples as he felt the anger boil inside his chest. _

**_ — Why are you so angry? _ **

**_ — Why?! Our duty is to protect people,  _ ** **_ Seungcheol _ ** **_ , and you took the life of a person who was going to collaborate with us! _ ** —  W _ onwoo _ _ howled with anger, beating the back of the pistol on the right ear of the elder, who groaned in pain as he become disoriented. _ —  **_ You  _ ** **_ probably  _ ** **_ suspected that Minghao knew something and was afraid he said something, wasn't you? Did you know that if Mingyu told you about your exits, you'd be exonerated from the corporation, wouldn't you? _ **

**_ — You don't- _ **

**_ — You bullet found in the body was of a police caliber. There's gunpowder on your blouse now. He died yesterday while you were still suspended, and you're carrying your work pistol outside of work hours.  _ ** —  _ He  _ _ scored proof by proof, snarling his eyes _ . —  **_ You’re lucky I  _ ** ** value ** **_ my job _ ** . —  _ He spat at the feet of the elder, disgusted, and walked toward the car while throwing the other's gun away. _ —  **_ At  _ ** ** least one of us has to honor the uniform. ** "

— Right... — The deputy murmured, noting the information in  Seungcheol's criminal record. — Now, by Kim Mingyu.

_ "The rain started in the afternoon and only stopped the morning of the next day when the trades began to open to work. It is unclear at what time, but a shouting began when a corpse was found in the parking lot of a local market in a nearby neighborhood of Kabukicho. _

_ The small pile of open cardboard boxes already seemed suspicious from afar, but when one of the staff was the exception of the crowd, he bitterly regretted it. Five different people were vomiting when police arrived to examine the crime scene and remove the corpse, among these Jeon Wonwoo. _

_ He couldn't believe it when he saw the scene; fallen to the ground was Kim Mingyu. Some larvae, which had not been washed away by rain, ate the edges of the bullet hole that ran through the head while tufts of his hair were missing and open wounds formed on their scalp, probably the work of some rodent or hungry dog. It was a little swollen and the blood leaking from his nose and mouth had already dried up. A horrible, putrid smell rose from his body, which was completely pale with purple and green colors at some points. One of his eyes was missing, leaving only the empty eye socket full of vermin. _

_ He had to swallow the vomit that went up his throat and looked away from the corpse. _

** 'I'm telling you this because I feel like my time is up, hyung.' **

**_ — Officer Jeon? _ **

** 'Hao told me, while under the influence of drugs, that there was a policeman visiting Kabukicho and I wanted so much, but so much to tell him the truth... I already knew pretty much everything. I followed him and took a lot of pictures. In fact, a cop took my camera, but i still had enough evidence about everything.' **

**_ — Yes? _ **

** 'I'm going to use the money Chan's going to give me to help Minghao if he gets arrested. Don't take this the wrong way. I know he's committing a crime, but so am I. I'm not more sure than he is.'  **

**_ — Help me take the corpse. _ **

** 'I need this to stay between us, please. You mentioned your partner, right? Know... Please don't take this as an accusation. I'm pretty sure it's the same person who took my camera. Can you show me a picture of him?' **

**_ — Of course. _ **

** 'But I think he's the same cop who walks around Kabukicho, and I'm pretty sure he's the one who stole my camera.'  **

**_ — Wow, whoever it is did a great job. How come no one's noticed the body since yesterday afternoon? What about the shot? It was a police weapon, I can tell by looking. _ ** "

He was crying.

— Officer Jeon?

Coming out of his trance, the reddish flashed a few times and shed two tears before drying his eyes and clearing his throat, disguising his moment of weakness before his superior. The man's hand touched his shoulder and squeezed it.

— You did the right thing by delivering Seungcheol, son. Know that you will be rewarded. — The delegate secured, pulling a false smile from the other. — I have been informed that the victim's cell phone was found in his apartment and that his last messages were exchanged with Xu Minghao and Lee Chan, correct? 

— Yes, sir, and Lee Chan has been called to come today. He should be on his way by now. 

— Okay, make sure you question him yourself then. — The man said, making the younger one rise and walk to the door. — Oh, most importantly!

— Yes, sir? —  Wonwoo asked. 

— Issue a subpoena to Choi Seungcheol and a search and seizure warrant for Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao. In the brothel Scandale too, since one of the prostitutes was appointed as Seungcheol's accomplice. Everyone will be detained until further notice.

— Yes, sir.

The officer left the room and came across the writer sitting in one of the chairs, sipping a cup of coffee that was offered to him. His pink hair was tousled and he looked extremely shaken as he raised his weary eyes to Jeon and sighed upon realizing that he was walking towards him.

— Come with me, please.

The two walked in slow steps through the police station and the older one opened the door, letting the boy in. Both settled in their respective chairs and soon a second officer stood at the lookout door if necessary.

— I believe you learned of Kim Mingyu's murder through our liaison, and that you were one of the last two people he had contact with before he died. — The reddish said, scratching his throat. — These questions are not to accuse you, Mr. Lee, but to clarify any misunderstanding and unlink you if necessary. So I need you to answer me with complete honesty.

— Of course, Officer. 

— What is your relationship with Kim Mingyu?

— Well... I'm ashamed to say it. — Chan scratched his nape, dull. — I've contracted Mingyu's paparazzi services to investigate someone. 

— And this someone is Xu Minghao?

— ... Yes. — He looked down at the table, shaking hands with his fist. — I found out that Mingyu was Minghao's ex-boyfriend, and so I got him because I wanted to know more about him. I wonder what he's got from rotten to hide.

— The last messages he sent him were asking him to terminate his deal. —  Wonwoo interrupted him. — Did you know where he intended to go? We got the footage of the street Mingyu lived on and the street where he was found dead, but we saw two completely different cars. Apparently the first car was a private car, while the other was a car of its own, but the license plate was censored by the driver and we couldn't see his face. 

— I confess that I got angry and tried to talk to him, but he didn't answer the calls. Now I know why. — Chan crisped his lips, with the sad expression. — I won’t be cinical to pretend I was being good to Mingyu, but if I had known that he was feeling so guilty, I would have stop everything...

The roseboy bowed his head and began to cry softly, hiding his face, causing the reddish to rise and stop by his side, smoothing his back in an attempt to comfort him.

— It's all right, Chan. It's not your fault. In fact, Minghao had something to hide. You just ended up messing with what you shouldn't have and got yourself in trouble, but it's not the end. — Bit his lower lip. –You can still help Mingyu, Chan. If you cooperate with us, his death will not have been in vain. 

Chan's body stopped shaking and he was in complete silence for a few minutes, which caused the guard officer to draw his gun out of mistrust. Suddenly a sniffing one swelled in the interrogation room and the boy began to dry his eyes, decided.

�— I'm going to do it. It's the right thing to do.

** [...] **

Wonwoo was seriously considering resigning and seeking therapy. What was his dream since childhood became his greatest martyrdom when he began to fall mentally ill thanks to research; his partner and superior was now being sought for killing a civilian, his stayer had been killed and now discovered that virtually everything was involved with Xu Minghao. He was afraid to bump into him, because I'd be capable of any madness.

But he was already too sick. When he laid eyes on that blue-haired boy walking the streets at night, he started following him in the face. He knew the other one had noticed, because he soon turned around the corner.

He remembered when he put the pistol on Seungcheol's forehead and made him describe the whore's appearance: large, dark eyes, blue hair, reddish lips, slim body, and charming smile. But all he saw was the defiant smile of the prostitute thrown at himself as he walked on his back, leaning against the wall.

— For you to be here, I see that I have really fulfilled my part of the combined with Junhui with excellence. — Joshua murmured softly, smiling. 

Angry, Wonwoo advanced towards the elder and grabbed him by the neck with both hands, suspending his body. The American began to squint and try to push the officer's arms, but he only stepped up the grip more and more. Tears began to descend down the reddish face of the other, who laughed blown.

— It was... A... trap... — Murmured, breathless. — You... And... Seungcheol... Will... Die... 

— Shut the fuck up!

At the edge of the anger, the officer saw a bag dropped on the floor and then released Joshua, picking up the plastic and wrapping it around the prostitute's face. He began to pull the material back as his victim struggled, losing more and more oxygen. The plastic bag gained a red coloring and the desperate movements of the prostitute were losing strength.

The reddish continued to press the bag against the face of others until the material stopped going up and down, indicating that the elder stopped breathing. He let go and soon the lifeless body fell to the wet floor of the alley, the bag tearing and revealing Joshua Hong with his eyes and face red as a thin line of blood dripped down his nose. His hands, blood-smeared, trembled, and soon he was ready to run away.

As sudden as his outburst of anger, a pair of hands wrapped a barbed wire around his neck and pulled him, making blood gush on the wall.  Wonwoo shrunk his eyes and tried to pull the wire out of his skin, only severed his fingerprints in the process. The strength was so big that soon the thread was almost halfway through his neck, barely severed. 

His hands dropped the wire and the officer fell to the ground, with squirts of blood washing the dirty floor of the alley and his fingers spreading around the place. The murder weapon was thrown away, as were the leather gloves, and  Jeonghan had to lean on one of the clean walls, beginning to cry softly as he stared at the corpse of his best friend of years on the floor. He never thought about losing Joshua, so the pain he felt was immeasurable.

— It's all right, hyung. We’ll be okay now. — He heard his company say, having his body hugged aside. — You did as much as you could by telling me everything. Shua's death will not be in vain. 

— I-I should have said it before, but he asked me not to tell and- — Jeonghan cried again. 

— Hey, what's going on? — Vernon held his face. — Come on, if anyone catches us here, I won't be able to continue my plan. We need to protect the brothel. 

— You're right...— The boy sat his long wires and then pulled a rose out of his pocket, throwing it near where the bodies were. — Wherever you are, be well, Shua. I love you.

— Rest in peace, Josh. — Vernon murmured in English, trying to hold back his tears. He couldn't let his frailty surface.

The two prostitutes stared at Joshua lying on the floor, who still had a small smile on his face, and then turned their backs with great regret, all leaving something in that dirty alley.  Jeonghan had lost his best friend. Vernon had lost one of the people he intended to save. Joshua had lost the right to live.  Wonwoo had missed his chance at redemption.

** [...] **

" _ Dear Minghao. _

_ You must be wondering about this letter and finding at least suspicious that I'm trying to get in touch with you, but I finally gathered a little courage and left my ego aside to admit the mistakes I've been making. _

_ I've been living for years of my life to destroy others, and I think that's why I never left the place I am. I lie, I did leave the place — but because I fell more and more into the concept, both in others and in mine. And now I see it's deserved. _

_ I helped kill Mingyu. I'm not the one who shot him, or who took his body. I didn't even know where he was that day. But I made him follow you. I made him meet the wrong people. I was one of those wrong people he met, and thanks to all of them, he died.  _

_ I wasn't fair to you either. I may never have said anything to your face or hurt you directly, but I've had a share of the blame for every bad thing that's happened in your life. I was the worst of all scoundrels, because I was the only one who never had the courage to do things alone and ended up destroying not only my life but also that of many. _

_ I wanted to apologize, from the bottom of my heart, for all the harm I've done and wished for you. You're better than me, and that's a fact, and there's no evil that's going to make me better than you, but they sure make me worse. My shameful acts are unjustifiable and have done nothing to me, because if they had served something I would not be here realizing how horrible I was as a writer and person. _

_ I don't demand that you forgive me, because I know that I've been a terrible person all this time and that I've judged you without even really knowing you because of my insecurity, so I won't be upset if the contempt has been mutual all this time. I'm just asking you to listen to me, please, because I really feel like you deserve to hear the answers to your questions and I'm willing to give them to you. All I'm asking is _ **__ ** _ that you meet me at café _ **__ ** **_ XXXX _ ** _ - _ **_ XXXX _ ** _ at 4:00 p.m. tomorrow, please. _

_ I'll understand if it's not okay for you, but Mingyu gave me a few things before he died and I think you'd like to have them as much as he'd like you to have them. This would be the perfect opportunity to deliver everything. Put an end to this confusing story.  _

_ Sincerely, Lee Chan.  _ "

He had reread the letter several times before making his decision. On the one hand, his distrust hit him hard; why did Lee Chan want to see you after devoting so much time to disgrace his life and career? 

But at the same time, he understood him. He hated Mingyu like he never hated anyone, but found himself affected and depressed by his death. He took back some pictures he had with the boy and put them back in frame, reread the poems he wrote to him and even caught himself crying while listening to the couple playlist of the two. In the end, Kim Mingyu was a good person who was corrupted by the wickedly of other people. He had his faults, but he didn't deserve what happened to him. And the guilt was consuming Minghao to the bone, because he could not read the newspapers and see  Seungcheol being accused of committing the murder when, in fact, he had seen his ex-boyfriend dying at the hands of someone else and even visited them after the murder. He had entered their arms and slept in their bed, even though those hands carried the poor photographer's corpse away. 

He knew he was going to end up torturing himself more with his thoughts and he was going to end up committing some he would regret in the future, so he started getting dressed when it was 2:00 p.m. and picked up the phone, sending a quick chat message with his two best friends —he'd finally got a new phone and chip, which only  Seokmin ,  Jihon and  Soonyoung knew. 

** Who's going to kill  ** ** Soonyoung ** ** first? **

** Here: ** I'll _ meet Chan at  _ **_ XXXX _ ** _ - _ **_ XXXX  _ ** _ at 16h. If I do not send any messages by then or after _ _ that, let Junhui know. _

_ No calling the police.  _

_ Don't question it.  _

_ Don't call.  _

_ Serious. _

_ [ _ **_ XXXX-XXXX _ ** _ ] _

_ That's where he lives. Tenth floor. Break down the door if he doesn't answer you. _

_ Please.  _

_ I don't want to run away.  _

_ No more. _

_ Never again. _


	23. Twenty three.

Producing a loud screech while making the turn, the vehicle finally entered one of the streets of Kabukicho early, while the morning sun still greeted passers-by. The street was empty, which was not uncommon in red light district neighborhoods; it was almost as if those parts of town only had life at night.

The vehicle stopped near Scandale, where they wanted to enter, and then the two law enforcement officers got out of the car, walking slowly toward the closed door. If you didn't know the neighborhood well and weren't cops, that place could clearly pass through a common establishment in the morning.

— We know you're there and you're listening! You're all trapped, come out with your hands where I can see! — One of them said, swallowing hard. — If you don't open the door, we're going to break in and shoot!

Almost a minute passed in complete silence and then the two officers looked at each other, nodding their heads. The two took their weapons and the one closest to the door began to kick the red wood until the door gave way, opening. 

The officer was engulfed in darkness when his body was thrown forward with the impact of his body throwing himself against the door, needing a few steps to balance on the floor of the venue — Scandale looked like a ghost town setting at that time, unlike how crowded it was of naked prostitutes and cheeky customers stinking of alcohol.

A wet, fast noise behind him cut off his hearing, causing him to raise his shoulders in alarm and turn face-up quickly, with the gun pointed at the source of the sound. His blood was frozen when he saw his wide-eyed partner, with a waterfall of blood dripping down the front of his uniform as he tried, pointlessly, to remove the knife buried to the handle in his throat. His body fell on the sidewalk, lifeless.

A pair of arms wrapped the neck of the remaining officer and he snared his eyes, trembling at which he could no longer move as much as the shock, his skills created in the police academy all coming down the drain as well as his partner's blood dripping into the nearest wolf's mouth.

— I love men in uniform, you know? It's a fetish of mine, very peculiar... — A voice murmured in his ear, his lips glued to his lobe. — But I just can't resist such a handsome, young cop.

The person behind him slowly surrounded his body and stopped in front of him, revealing himself: he was a boy with blond hair and protruding cheeks, with the sweetest and, at the same time, scariest smile that man had ever seen in all his seven-year career. 

As  Seungkwan walked away, the officer was surrounded by strong, well-armed men. The screams and noise of bones being broken were enough to give the pimp the certainty he needed to have, so he crossed the large empty hall and turned on the lights, taking a money pile out of the bar of his underwear. He went in the direction of the tallest of men and gave him the money, smiling from the side.

— Thanks for the protection, Johnny. — He blinked, skirting one of the Yakuza tattoos the man had. — It was really nice doing business with you.

— That’s bullshit. It was your boy who came to ask me, he's the one you have to thank. I'm just doing my part. — The mobster raised his hands modestly and smiled, straightening his own threads. — Go upstairs with him, me and the guys are going to break up with these assholes and take the bodies. Rest assured, the police will forget about you. Yuta and I planned everything.

After being dismissed by the boy, Seungkwan swerved from the various Yakuza mobsters and climbed the stairs in no hurry, passing through the rooms of his various prostitutes. He walked into Vernon's room without knocking on the door and found the boy sitting on the bed with his back to himself. Upon seeing her boss and ex-boyfriend, the youngest smiled.

— You were very brave, Vernonnie. Really. — He praised the young man, sitting beside him and putting his hand on his back, crisping his lips. — We lost Shua, but you saved the rest of the brothel with your courage. 

— I didn't save anyone. You knew everything from the beginning, I just helped you keep an eye on everybody. 

— Yes, I confess. Until it was a good idea to have you spy on Minghao and test his intentions, or else he would have gone along with the rest. — The two laughed softly. — And we are free now. Those two cops, this Seungcheol guy and his partner, they're dead. It's our cue to put things together, free the girls and leave with the boys.

— Shua would like to be here to go with us... — Vernon murmured, still saddened by the loss of his friend.

— I wish he was here too, but he's looking out for us from wherever he is. And he sacrificed his life for the brothel, as proof of our gratitude we will live well from today. — Seungkwan said, kissing the boy's forehead. — It is our obligation. 

— You're right. — The boy smiled, lighting a cigarette. — Go take a look at Jeonghan, I'll see if they're done downstairs.

— I've known you for a long time and  i've dated you, you don't have to be ashamed to ask to be alone. — The older one made fun of him.

The two laughed and soon the blonde left the room, leaving his ex-boyfriend alone. Vernon sighed and let some lonely tears roll, looking at his things packed in the corner of the room in which he slept and attended to people for years. He looked at a picture with Joshua and Jeonghan, recalling a conversation he had with his late friend. That thought made him laugh, keeping the picture in his pocket and coming down the stairs with a heavy heart, but warm for the good memories. May Joshua Hong rest in peace.

_ "After a fight with a drunk and violent customer, Joshua was cleaning up Jeonghan's injuries while Vernon watched them both, sitting at the door. He was still considered a newcomer, so he was pretty scared. _

**_ — Hey, Vernon. —  _ ** _ Jeonghan _ _ called, already getting a look from his friend who knew the boy. —  _ **_ What would you like us to do with your body if it was killed by the _ ** **_ police or some neighborhood criminal?  _ ** **_ Kabukicho _ ** **_ is pretty violent, you know. _ **

**_ — Jeonghan! _ ** —  _ Joshua scolded, pressing the wet cloth on the wound of the elder's eyebrow, who grunted in pain. —  _ **_ No need to answer,  _ ** **_ Vernonnie _ ** **_ ,  _ ** **_ Jeonghan _ ** **_ is an idiot. _ **

**_ — Look who's talking!  _ **

**_ — I think I'd want you to bury me in a cemetery and leave me roses. _ ** —  _ Vernon murmured, shy. _

**_ — I'd want you to have a party with a lot of booze, and then have a group sex in my old room. — _ ** _ Jeonghan _ _ said, playful as usual.  _

**_ — When I die, I want you to cremate me and throw my ashes into Lake Owen. It's in California.  _ ** —  _ Joshua murmured, finishing the bandagfe of the elder. _

_ Vernon raised his eyes to the blond-haired boy at the time. The American was a mystery sometimes and, between the two prostitutes, he was with whom the  _ _ newman _ _ least had intimacy. Despite this he was one of the kindest with him, along with Seungkwan, his boss. _

**_ — Why?  _ **

**_ — Why? _ ** —  _ Joshua repeated the question, opening a gentle smile as he gathered things from the medical kit.—  _ **_ Because the river is part of a cycle. When the water of a river begins to be warmed by the heat of the sun, the water begins to evaporate and the steam rises. When the steam rises to the skies, it cools and condenses into droplets, accumulating and becoming rain clouds. When the atmosphere is with a lot of condensed water, then the precipitation begins. All the falling water can be absorbed by the soil or drain back into the rivers. _ **

**_ — What a nerd talk, what the fuck does that means? —  _ ** _ Jeonghan mocked, his face resting on his hand.  _

**_ — I want to evaporate in the waters of the river, rise to the heavens like steam, and descend again like rain. That way, I'll be eternal.  _ ** _ — Joshua explained, getting up and going toward the bathroom. He put his head out, smiling on his side. —  _ **_ Like _ ** __ **_ t _ ** **_ he  _ ** **_ water cycle! _ **

_ Vernon was silent, only processing the words that the elder told him; Joshua was very wise, indeed, and a very visionary boy. Someone like him shouldn't be in that little life, that's for sure. _

**_ —  _ ** **_ Ew _ ** **_ , he wants to rain ash on us! _ ** —  _ Jeonghan made a face after thinking it all." _

** […] **

Wearing his cream-colored overcoat, Minghao looked in the mirror one last time before ordering a private car to the coffee shop where he set up the meeting with Lee Chan. It was very strange and he was still a little suspicious, but he was really trying to believe that the boy was sorry after Mingyu's death. 

He got in the car and greeted the driver, crossing his arms. He had left the phone at home because he knew Seokmin could track him again (not least because the boy had installed the tracking app once again on the Chinese's cell phone, this time without even disguising it) and did not want any of his friends to get involved and get hurt. With Soonyoung injured, Jihoon and Seokmin had no one to protect them.

The boy didn't even notice when the car stopped, taking the money out of his pocket and paying the driver. He got out of the vehicle and watched him turn around a little reluctantly, beginning to walk in the direction of the place scheduled for the meeting. 

His steps slowed down as he got closer to the cafeteria, which did not look at all like a normal coffee shop: its façade was old and rusty, had remnants of what once formed the environmental sign and a clapard, with a cup of coffee, flashed even if it was in the daytime. That's when Minghao understood everything.

As Lee Chan left the abandoned coffee shop with a triumphant smile, the Chinese noticed the trap in which he fell. The younger one came towards him smiling more and more and supported his hand on his shoulder, with a priceless expression on his face.

— Of all the work I've done to get here, this one seems the easiest. — He mocked him, not holding a laugh. — How can you be so naïve and so stupid?

— What... What is that? — Minghao murmured, incredulous. — Why did you do that?

— You have taken away my fame, Xu Minghao! You made me fall for disgrace! — The rosy bellowed in rupture, scaring the redhead. — You made me hit rock bottom to take you down. I had to fool idiot Mingyu, trick the idiot  Seungcheol into taking care of you after returning my camera and pretend I was going to cooperate with  Wonwoo and the rest of the cops because no one knew of my involvement, but now... — Your anger came out of your face and he gave an evil smile. — Now it's over. End of the line for you, you crook. 

Before the Chinese could answer, Chan stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, causing the elder to cover his ears. A  police officer came out of the same abandoned coffee shop and marched towards the elder, pressing him into the wall and handcuffing his hands.

— Xu Minghao, you are under arrest for possession and drug use, confabulation and omission with Wen Junhui.

Wide-eyed, Minghao looked at Lee Chan through the corner of his eyes and was terrified by the expression of his face; that kid who had a pressure-filled childhood, a depressed adolescence, and an obsessed adult life didn't seem human. He looked like pure evil incarnate at that moment.

He was dragged into the car and thrown into the back seat unable to sketch reaction beyond shock, seeing the law enforcement officer and his writer rival settle into the driver's seats and ride, respectively. 

— You did well, boy, I hope you know. — The officer told Chan, who now smiled sweetly like an angel.

It caused the Chinese to lay his head on the leather seat of the vehicle and let the tears flow freely down his face, finally realizing the situation in which he was stuck. He thought of his family in China, of his friends in Japan, of everything. His head went apeshit.

His body swayed as the car passed over holes or rocks, but not so the Chinese moved, sunk in melancholy and fear. Not in a million years did Xu Minghao imagine he would be arrested, but there really was a first time for everything. A loud noise, however, made him jump in the back seat, frightened.

— What was that? — Chan asked, looking out the window.

— There's a car behind us. 

Minghao looked out the window of the seat, seeing a black car approaching at high speed, but did not have much time to assimilate the situation, as soon a hand rose through the driver's window and held a gun.

Another loud sound was made and the car gave a bump, losing control to which the bullet was right on one of the rear tires. The car soon flipped over and Minghao's body was thrown violently against the railing, with shards of glass exploding around him and making him scream. Everything turned, until the destroyed bodywork finally stopped, upside down.

The officer grunted, trapped in the hardware, and saw the two boys unconscious in the vehicle, then saw the police radio hanging from the car. He raised his hand in the direction of this and pulled it, pressing one of the buttons with difficulty.

— A-Agent Go here, I n-need reinforcements, we are o-on the highway-

A single shot to the forehead was enough to kill the officer, who soiled the roof of the car with blood and brains. The sound woke Chan, who screamed in dread and let loose from his belt with difficulties, plummeting between pieces of brain and glass. 

He was crawling ridiculously across the floor, soiling the hot asphalt with blood and moaning about the pain it caused. Another shot was fired and the bullet stuck in his back, causing him to howl in pain and spit a jet of blood on the ground, weak.

One of Junhui's big hands turned the body of the youngest as if he were a rag doll and the boy's eyes widened to what he recognized the Chinese as the loan shark from the photos that Mingyu and  Seungcheol showed him. His breath became even more flawed and tears flowed down his face smeared with blood and dust.

— P-Please... — Chan pleaded, sobbing.

— I don't know if you know, but the people who are loan sharks have principles. — The Chinese murmured, reloading his pistol. — And the most important thing is not to let the customer escape, be arrested or die before paying the debt. — He pointed the gun at the  rosy's forehead, looking into his eyes. — It’s such a  pity , little man. Nothing personal, it's just business.

The shot blew Chan's head off and spread his brain across the asphalt, causing his empty head to tip to the ground as his eyes were wide with fear, having as last sight Junhui's cold face, which killed him looking into his eyes. He'd never forget. Literally.

Locking and guarding his gun with the barrel still hot, Junhui then walked in the direction of the overturned vehicle and kicked the back door, causing it to open. Handcuffed and unconscious, with head and face injuries, Minghao was lying on the ground with shards of glass and blood everywhere. 

Realizing that the boy was not going to wake up so soon, Junhui crouched down and found a way to pull him close, holding him in his arms carefully and gently. The redhead's head hung down, dripping blood and making a trail of drops as the elder took him to the car.

Lying Minghao in the back seat, Junhui found himself observing the boy's weary expression and sighed, closing the door. He got in the car, starting to laugh softly with his hands on the steering wheel, still .

— And to think that you are the one who owes, but I'm the one who's paying for all those sins...


	24. Twenty four.

Minghao woke up jumping on the bed he was lying on, as if dreaming that he was falling off a huge cliff, and groaned in pain at the twinge it caused him. He passed his hand on his face and felt some bandages on his skin, which was also covered by a thin layer of sweat. There was also a bandage on his rib, which was the reason for his pain after he was pierced by a shard of glass. He looked around and realized he was in a cell.

— I even work every week, but I'm free at night. — It was Jihoon's voice. And he was flirting with a cop.

When he took a good look at the environment, he noticed it was a simple police station. There were some officers around working on their own things, on some break or simply transiting, but there didn't seem to be a place where they sent people who were really going to be arrested. 

— Oh, you're awake. — The cop who was hitting on his best friend noticed him sitting down and then unlocked the cell. — You're free. Be more careful with your behavior.

— But-

— Thank you very much,  Jaeyeol , I'll call you later. — Jihoon blinked, dragging his friend out of the police station.

The two were soon getting stuck in the elder's car and were silent, until one of Jihoon's hands came down in an open-hand slap in the face of the Chinese, who gave a scream for fright and sudden burning.

— Oh- but what- ouch!

— That was for leaving without explaining to us, look where you ended up! In prison! — Jihoon braved, frowning, but soon squeezed his best friend into a tight embrace. — I was worried, you idiot! I had no idea where you were, because I went there with Seokmin at night and there was no one! No sign of you! 

— You went there! You idiots! — Minghao whimpered, still hugging his friend. — But wait, I was in a car and-

— I know, Junhui told me everything. — The little one surprised the redhead, letting him go and starting to drive. — He stopped by the house this morning and said he'd sorted it out. He told him that as soon as we talked to him, he came after you and saved you. Then he said he paid your bail, I thought he'd turned himself in or something, but he just told me he got someone to hand over the money and then told me he'd have to disappear for a while until the things settle. He also paid double for the source Lee Chan paid to spread his arrest, so no one else is going to know about any of this.

— That's... lots of information. — The younger one murmured, hugging himself. — Do you know where he is?

— No, he just said he was leaving, but that he's going to come back and that you're going to know his whereabouts when the time is right.

The car fell silent and the boys stayed that way until they arrived at Jihoon's condo. They climbed an elevator and were soon at the apartment door, but were greeted by a painful cry when the door was unlocked.

— Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you.  Soonyoung forgot to pay the bribe to the police and ended up arrested when they went to investigate the death of two other police officers in Kabukicho. I thought he was going to jail for other reason, but I already knew he was going to go to jail for his stupidity. He even left a widower inconsolable. — Jihoon said, pointing with his thumb at Seokmin.

The boy was inconsolable, crying from the day his beloved left for work and ended up being arrested for drug trafficking by accident. Despite making a big mistake, Kwon  Soonyoung was still Kwon  Soonyoung , so more bribes managed to reduce his 7-year sentence for drug trafficking (luckily, it was a Monday, as the shipments he carried with him were higher on Fridays and Saturdays) to 7 months in one of Tokyo's best  penitentiaries , entitled to TV and his own room. 

— Oh, god, what am I going to do without him?! — The secretary sobbed, hugging the Chinese as soon as he sat beside him on the couch. — I love Soon, Hao!

— I'm glad to see you too, Seok. Oh, come on, the rollover was nothing, I just hurt my face and a huge shard of glass came into my rib. — Minghao said in an ironic way, then receiving the full attention of the elder.

— Oh, Hao, I'm sorry. — He sniffed, opening a wry smile. — I'm glad to have you here, even though I can't demonstrate it now.

— No problem, I'm better now. And I'm sorry about Soonyoung. But he's smart, he's going to get out of this soon.

— I don't doubt it, that's a twill rat. Able to escape from prison alone before time and show up here to give me more trouble. — Jihoon cursed, putting his coat on the hanging. — I can't believe now the police know that I've housed a drug dealer in my apartment, I'm fucked if they come after me. This guy better do his time right. — He stopped in the middle of the road, staring at his best friend. — And you, don't even think about going back to your house. You're going to sleep here tonight, then you're going to sell that apartment and go live downtown, in another city, anything. This place is damned to you. For all of us. Let lightning strike Kabukicho and destroy everything!

The blonde came out mumbling toward the kitchen and made Seokmin cry again, but Minghao just hugged him and smiled, happy to have his friends back the way they were. When he closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest a little squeezed on the couch with his weeping secretary, he thought of Junhui and where he might be. You just wished he was okay.

** SEVEN MONTHS LATER. **

— Seriously, that brat is a pillowcase, I can't take it anymore! He takes me seriously. I don't know how a guy like that was tipped to play one of my characters, who I gave so much sweat and tears to create.

Sulking and arm-id, Minghao was venting again about the actor who participated in the adaptation of his book, which was about to be released. He had an extremely  snobby way behind the camera, which didn't please the writer at all.

— Oh, no wonder, most actors and actresses are a bunch of assholes behind the camera. A couple of little shits. — Jihoon retorted, with a cigarette in his mouth. — But come on, did you come to visit me here in this end of the world to complain or to hang out?

— A little of each.

After the traumatic events, Minghao moved to Ginza, the richest neighborhood in Japan's capital. There, he was able to recover from the traumatic events and take a break from his career, terminating his contract with his former publisher and  tolding them to put his new book anywhere they wanted. The fine didn't even tickle his pocket, so his life went on and still had support from his fans.

It was only 23 minutes away from Ginza to the neighborhood where the boy used to live, but he only came back there to visit his friends. This was the occasion, as Soonyoung had left jail and the quartet gathered in the apartment in which Seokmin bought at that time to celebrate; then the two best friends gave the couple privacy, who probably wanted to fuck a lot, and headed towards Kabukicho. 

— Ah, how many memories... — Minghao murmured in ecstasy as he looked at the plate of  Scandale , which was crowded.

— Yes, it is. I brought you here because I found out they're closing. Seungkwan told me.

— What?!

— That’s right, buddy. Better do everything today, it’s your last chance.

Jihoon parked the car and the two went down, entering the huge line. Several strong boys were at the door regulating everything, probably Yakuzas, but as soon as they laid eyes on the duo, they were released.

— Jihoon! —  Seungkwan waved as he saw the boys approaching, raising their eyebrows in surprise at the view of the Chinese. — Minghao, how long! 

— What's all this about leaving, eh? — The boy sat in his eyes, making the pimp laugh.

— Yes, it's time to make history outside the country. We've made money so our girls can live a free life and we guys are going to continue our journey. 

— It's a shame, you've given me many things. — Minghao lamented, crisping his lips. — In every sense of the word.

— If you happen to go to Los Angeles, you can visit us. We're a casino now. —  Seungkwan blinked. — Well, enough talk. Jihoon, you already know where to find  Jeonghan . Minghao, I'm going to call Vernon for you, baby, wait here.

—All right, Seungkwan. Oh, good luck on your new journey.

Seungkwan winked at the two of them and left, leaving his friends alone. Jihoon said he was going to drink with Jeonghan and then the redhead was left alone, waiting for his company. A familiar figure, however, caught his eye and made him freeze in place.

With hair cut and dyed in a reddish shade, Junhui was charming in his white buttoned shirt and black pants. His arms were a little stronger and there was a sequence of numbers tattooed on one of his forearms: 24828.41. He seemed to be being watched and noticed his favorite redhead looking at him, opening a smile and walking towards him.

Everything around seemed to drift apart and it was as if the two of them were in an empty room, just the two of them, no one else. Soon they were face-to-face and, after seven months, it was almost as if they were born again.

— I'm glad to see you here, I came back a month ago and had no idea where you were. I even looked for Jihoon, but he wasn't there when I went to visit him and I didn't know where  Seokmin was living. — Junhui said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. — Supposing you've moved... What are you doing here?

— Jihoon who brought me... — He managed to murmur, his eyes caught in the tattoo of the elder.

— Do you want to know what it means? — The elder asked, with a laughing tone. He received a nod in response, licking his lips. — That's the amount you owe me now. Twice as many as before. 

Knowing this made a good warmth go through the entire body of the writer, who faced the elder with an expression difficult to read. The now reddish left weak pats on the head of the youngest, as if caressing a puppy. 

— A month.

Junhui turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand holding his wrist hard. He turned and found the predatory eyes of Minghao, who seemed to have turned into someone else. In fact, those seven months had changed him, and a lot.

With one hand, the redhead took out of his pocket a few notes, which he would probably use to pay Vernon, and then pulled the bar from the older man's pants, inserting all the money there. Smoothed the relief that the notes made and gave a little smile aside, sticking his body to the loan shark, which was in shock.

— If you have interest... — He murmured, with a smiling sketch growing in the corner of his mouth. — I'll pay at my house.

The proposal was more than enough to make Junhui smile and he waited for the younger one to say goodbye to his best friend before pulling him by the wrist, putting him in his car and leaving with him. Vernon, who was watching everything with Seungkwan, did not contain the laughter along with his boss.

— These two... At least we won't be here anymore when they get back in trouble. — Seungkwan denied with his head, laughing.

— Not really. — The youngest agreed.

Giving  Seungkwan a kiss on the cheek, Vernon then walked in the direction of Jihoon and Jeonghan, who were already kissing. He didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Minghao, but he definitely wasn't going to miss the chance to meet Jeonghan and take advantage once again of the assiduous customer who paid him the most (and fucked) well.


	25. Twenty five.

** Five years later. **

The fireplace in the house was lit and was the second source of light after the small table lamp, which served as a complement — even if there was an entire glass wall, the sun was already going among the mountains. The sound of the pen writing on the paper was noisy and was the only noise that echoed in the modern house. 

— Have you finished your letter? — The voice caught the attention of Vernon, who muttered a "no" softly and returned to the task of filling the role. — Come on, tomorrow I'm going to leave early to shop and  I'll stop by the post office. 

— Don't keep pushing me, shit! — The mixed race scolded, sighing. — I think I've compiled everything I need. I don't know what else to write.

— So don't write, duh.

Rolling his eyes, the black-haired boy got up and took the envelope, in which he inserted the handwritten letter after he finished it. He filled in the necessary credentials and then placed the seal in the correct place, throwing everything on the coffee table to get the other's attention.

— Here, you boring. — He caught the other's attention by snapping his fingers. — Make sure you don't forget to deliver it, another month without sending a letter and I'll be a dead man.

— You left four months ago and you still haven't gotten used to sending letters. I don't know how Seungkwan let that happen.

— He technically didn't agree, right. Don't forget you came back from the United States sworn to death. — The former prostitute threw himself on the spacious sofa and squeezed like a kitten. — By the way, speaking of which... What really happened to Seokmin? You told me everything on the return trip but I forgot, I was too tired to absorb.

— I told you, he asked  Soonyoung for a break after things got riskier, he went to a confectionery course in Italy and when he came back he went straight into  Soonyoung's arms again. — The explanation made the man nod with his head. — I haven't digested the fact that  Soonyoung dropped the drug traffic and started sewing. 

— Well, there’s no doubt too... After almost losing the only man he really loved and who cared about him, it was a shock of reality. Not to mention he had no one left to sell there after Scandale closed, and  Kabukicho was his main selling point. Maybe, he wanted to avoid the fatigue of having to search another neighborhood and bribe other local police officers.

— Or maybe it was fear of the beating he was going to take from Jihoon if he was arrested again. — They both laughed. — I still can't believe he adopted a little boy. Jihoon has no patience with anyone, I didn't imagine that he was going to gather to take care of a being who is still in formation and who has virtually no ability to obey his commands.

— Maybe going back to Korea made Jihoon feel alone. I'd try to replace loneliness with something. 

— Yes, something. Not someone.

— Stop being boring. By the way, yesterday, there were images of  Wonwoo and  Seungcheol's memorial on TV. — He murmured softly, containing a smile. — I didn't imagine that they were so dear, especially after the depredation that happened in the graves...

— I know it was you and Jeonghan, no need to pretend it wasn’t.

— He wanted to get out of the pain, and so did I, deep down. — He shrugged. — He's much better now. I thought he'd never get over Joshua's death, but he handled the grief well. After we threw his ashes into Lake Owen, it was almost as if his spirit had finally rested and ours too. The first two years were difficult, but now I feel like I've finally been able to forget what happened and keep Shua in my heart.

—It must have been difficult for you. I didn't lose anyone special in this whole war, but I confess that I wish everything was over without anyone dying.

— I wanted to, too, but some ends would be loose if everything hadn't happened exactly as it did. — Vernon stopped biting his pinky's fingernail, feeling a small burning. — And if no one had died, that bastard Lee Chan would be among them.

— How horrible, celebrating someone's death. — He mocked, receiving a pillow on his face as an answer. — But his pride was going to end up killing him someday, he just stopped walking and started running toward the precipice. 

— Poetic... — He looked at the ground, biting his lower lip. — Cigarette?

— You know I stopped using drugs and medication, it's been a year since I've been clean.

— Right, right, that was my mistake. — He raised his arms in surrender. — Oh, Seungkwan will really come back if I don't send the letter. Don't forget it!

— He will not die if he does not receive your letters, nor will you if you do not receive his.

— The last time I ran out of news of Seungkwan, he sent me a huge letter telling me that he sold the casino, released everyone and moved in with his mother. 

— I remember that. Where did Jeonghan go?

— I told you, he went to psychology school in Los Angeles. Joshua always said he was ruining his life by being in the brothel since he had financial conditions and family support, but he never listened. Working at Scandale was like his leisure. — Hansol remembered the old days. — Now, I think he finally realized that he's a human being with a chance to start over and grabbed the opportunity. Joshua's death messed with him, so maybe he wants to help people the same way he was helped when he was fragile and vulnerable.

— That is a noble cause. 

— He has a good heart, deep down. He just needed to figure that out. — The boy shrugged, pulling dry skin from his lips. — Can I ask you something?

— You can, of course. — His brown eyes looked over the frame of his glasses.

— What happened to Junhui, Hao?

The former prostitute watched the former writer's expression suddenly change and he sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Already sorry for the question, the youngest swallowed it dry and played with his own fingers.

— I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have asked, right?

— It's all right, I should have predicted you'd be curious. — The still redhead sighed, with a small smile. He didn't look sad, just nostalgic. — He's been dead a year. 

— What?!

The news caught Vernon by surprise, who could not imagine a reality where Wen Junhui was dead. He had killed two police officers and a civilian — in addition to the thirty-five victims he did throughout his life as a loan shark — committed several crimes he never paid for and always had a solution to the problems he was in, so it made no sense for him to be dead. 

— It's ironic, but he's dead. He killed himself, actually. — Corrected. "With the very gun he used to kill a lot of people.

— It doesn't get in my head... Like... Why he did that? 

— Don't think he regretted it or anything. He was weird until his last day of life. — He laughed softly, remembering the man when they last saw each other. — I met him that day at the brothel and we had sex, but after that he disappeared and I went back to work. He just completely disappeared, I even thought he'd gone back to China or something. No one else had heard from him, he stopped being sought by South Korean police and basically had speculation of a possible death since he was still alive.

Minghao's thin hand wrapped his tea mug and he took a long sip, wiping the corner of his mouth before scratching his throat and proceeding.

— A little before I met Junhui again, I found my brother. I had no idea how he had found me, but he came to Japan and talked to me. Our mother was hospitalized at the time, and he had just gotten out of prison. It was a pretty horrible date, and I knew it had to do with Junhui. — He muttered softly, seeming upset to tell that part. — I felt worse than when they discovered my involvement in loan sharking. Almost as if I opened a grave and lay with the corpse inside it.

— It's been three years since you retired to therapy, and yet you won't let go of these strange expressions.

— Shhh. — He pretended to punch the half-breed, proceeding. — Anyway, he gave my address to my brother and we spoke, but he disappeared and I made a point of changing the address soon after. That's why we're living in a house practically in the Morioka mountains, so isolated that we are. — They laughed together. — I went to visit Seokmin and  Soonyoung just before they went to live in Italy and then I ran into Junhui on the street. He was... Over.

— In what sense?

— Physically and emotionally. It looked like they'd taken off his armor and left only a fragile, rich little boy. By the way, not even rich. He went bankrupt. Apparently after all the adrenaline that ruined several lives and careers, he lost his life purpose after I evened out my life and started making huge loans on purpose just to have the pleasure of chasing his clients, but it wasn't the same thing. And he ended up being deceived, since none of them were a famous writer and ended up disappearing for real. — He shrugged. — He said he no longer knew what he was fighting for and that he no longer seemed to be the same. A very sad conversation, I confess that I would have been sorry if he hadn't ended my life.

— What then?

— Well, then he found me again and I said I was leaving, which wasn't entirely a lie, but he insisted on seeing me one last time at his house. That same apartment. — Minghao sighed, biting his lower lip. — There, he vented about never being satisfied and always wanting for more until he got to the point where he was and that his miserable life was his own fault. He handed me a briefcase with  almost  _ 1916481608.87 _ yen and said that's what he owed me in 14 years. I confess, I shed a tear. Then he told me to leave and told me never to ruin my life again.

— …

— I heard the sound of the shot just as I got into the elevator. His body was buried as a indigent in a discreet cemetery and I was the only one leaving flowers. I heard that some relatives of his former clients discovered the whereabouts of the tombstone and destroyed everything, but I won't know until August, which is when I turn 2 and I'm going to have to go back there.

— I'm sorry.

— Don't feel it, he's a bastard independent of the good deeds he's ever done. A total son of a bitch. He fucked my whole life, and don't forget he's the one who killed Joshua and Mingyu. — Minghao crossed his arms. — Of course, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have become a writer and wouldn't have met anyone I know now, but in the end I ended up feeling as miserable as I was before for a long time. Miserable with feelings.

— I'm sorry for you, obviously. — Vernon corrected himself, crawling in the direction of the elder and hugging him aside. — At least therapy helped you. You've improved a lot, Hao. I'm proud of who you've become now.

— I am proud, too. — The Chinese smiled.

It was too late and Minghao intended to do the week's shopping the next day, so soon the two boys were getting ready for bed. The king size double bed was soon crowded with the two and the little kitten they adopted and the two hugged, with the brunette lying on the redhead's chest.

— I have one more question.

— Your curiosity is really scary sometimes.

— Why did you bring me with you?

— Because you are one of the very few good things that have happened in Kabukicho, now. I felt alone and you wanted to live another life, so I brought you back to Japan with me. — The Chinese spoke. — Besides, it's not like you're super busy back in Los Angeles. That job sucked all of you, especially Seungkwan. 

— It's true, but I didn't think you'd want to remember me or live with me. I mean, we're in a super weird relationship, not a bad stranger. But basically we're an ex-prostitute and a former writer trying to have something cool and healthy.

— At least we're trying. Chemistry we've had since we met, we just need to get to know each other besides the former Minghao writer and the former Vernon prostitute.

— You already know me. I'm just like I was before.

— I didn't know you until after I made you cum. Is your personality an  _ eternal  _ post-orgasm mood?

— Stop being an idiot, c’mon.

The two laughed and exchanged a simple peck. Vernon slept quickly but Minghao found himself staring at the ceiling as he smoothed his lover's back, lost in thought. He, Junhui, Minghao and all the other figures he met in Kabukicho, after all, were very similar.

Deep down, they were  **_ kindred _ ** **. **

** END. **


End file.
